


A Heart and a Half

by SinisterScribe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Big Bad Wolf - Freeform, Biting, F/M, RUBY!, Rough Sex, Stabby Stabby, Wolves, ancient monsters, many wolves, pretty raunchy from the get go, quite a bit of biting actually, true love and all that jazz, woodcutter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 189,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterScribe/pseuds/SinisterScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunting Queen from the point where Regina is faced with the decision of crushing Graham's heart only, this time around, she can't do it. She gives him his heart back and that's just the start of her problems. An ancient evil wakes within the curse and it's out for blood. <br/>With the Old Laws of magic making themselves known at every turn, Regina and Graham realise they have to put their twisted pasts behind them in order to survive for there are monsters abroad that are far worse than either of them combined.<br/>Along the dark and bloody path they are forced to walk hand in hand, they begin to realise that truly needing someone might not be all that different from truly loving them. <br/>It's dark, it's bloody, twisted doesn't quite cover their relationship and complications swim to the surface at every turn. Rated for full frontal, violence, nudity, language and sex. You don't like it, don't read it, and certainly don't whine at me about it. <br/>I own nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Satisfaction**

_WHAM!_

Regina allowed her face –for just a second- to show the unutterable glee she felt at finally planting her fist into the vaunted deputy’s face.

That wet meaty sound of knuckles meeting cheek. She’d misjudged it –years out of practice. She missed her nose and the stunning blow that would have allowed her to follow up with a killing strike. Still, it was satisfaction defined to watch Miss Swan reel away from her with a commoner’s grunt of pain and surprise.

Regina watched her, head tilting. She read the body language, saw the dumb rage flash in the younger woman’s eyes. Oh please, how had she ever made a living as a bonds person if she telegraphed everything as if it was in Vegas neon? The shift of the weight, pivoting on the ankle, hand balling.

Regina very nearly rolled her eyes but her own body was already twisting, her jaw turning. She took the hamfisted punch like a pro and staggered the bulk of the force off with a shrug. She dropped the flowers and stumbled, not having counted on her heels. She sighed when Miss Swan cinched her arms around Regina from behind and dragged her towards her father’s mausoleum. Stars burst behind her eyes when her skull rapped off the stone pillar. She could taste blood in her mouth and she felt the bloodlust rise.

So long. It had been so long since she’d killed someone. Not since the curse had first begun and even that had been more necessity than anything else.

But then Graham.

He was snarling at Emma, dragging her away and Regina shrugged it off. Dusting her jacket off and sloping down the steps back to where she had dropped her father’s flowers. She scooped them up and felt Emma’s approach. She tensed, half turning.

Do it, Regina’s tongue slithered over her teeth, _do it_.

Give her an excuse, any excuse, the next time Swan touched her it would be her last. A punch gone wild, that would be the story. Whoops, had that been her trachea? How clumsy.

Henry would likely never forgive her but –in that moment- Regina didn’t care.

“Not worth it.” Emma huffed at her and yomped past Regina with that pounding dinosaur gait of hers.

Not worth it? What the hell did that mean? Of course Regina was worth it.

According to Miss Swan’s whole damn destiny, Regina was the meaning to her entire existence.

Without the Evil Queen, who had use of a hero?

Regina turned, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her jaw aching pleasantly, and saw her Huntsman watching her carefully.

“Graham…” Had he seen?

Had he finally seen the mask slip? Had he remembered? Did he see her as he once had? As his…owner.

Graham’s eyes were empty.

He shook his head, barely acknowledging her, and stepped around her. Trailing after Swan like he had once trailed after her. Yet another thing stolen from her by the precious Swan.

Regina stood and watched them go. For a long time after they had disappeared from her field of vision, she observed the gloomy trees of the cemetery. The sentinels of the tombstones standing over empty graves keeping vigil to her latest humiliation.

Regina reached up slowly, absently, and smeared the blood from her mouth. It stained her skin, leather gloves being a poor tool to clean up with, but she licked the copper taste from the leather anyway.

She remembered the first time she had tasted his blood, remembered how he had arched under her as her teeth had scraped the skin of his throat raw.

All she had to do…was _squeeze_.

Spinning on her heel, galvanised in the sanctuary of her rage, Regina powered up the steps to her family’s tomb and threw open the door. She stilled, calming almost in the face of her father’s marble coffin. She sucked in a deep breath, steadying herself, and closed the door behind her with a quiet click. Resting the flowers reverently on the coffin, Regina slid her gloved hand over the smooth marble. The blood she hadn’t swept away with her tongue left pink streaks on the stone. It would stain.

She didn’t care.

Regina rested both hands on the coffin and –with a sudden heft- threw her weight against it. The sound of stone grinding over stone rumbled through the tomb and her bones. Blue light spilled up against her from the stairway brought into view.

Cautiously, Regina picked her way down into the vaults beneath. The tunnels spread beneath the tomb in a labyrinth only she knew the full extent of. She had an entire subterranean network down there. With connections to the larger tunnels of the sewer system, Regina could feasibly traverse Storybrooke from one side to the other without ever stepping above ground.

Though the chamber she sought was considerably closer than that.

Regina listened to her heels clip against the stone floor as if from very far away and tried to identify this curious quiet that had frozen in her chest.

She’d always had an internal rage, having learned from a young age that having feelings –any kind of feelings- were only weapons to be used against her. Smiling at the wrong person, laughing at the wrong joke, comforting someone beneath her station –all of them had been used to punish her in some form or another. She had learned fast. Feel nothing…or by the gods look like you didn’t.

She had never actually _felt_ nothing though.

She always felt something. All the time, without surcease, she knew the full extremity of every emotion. Serenity was a foreign concept, apathy a pipedream, solace as alien as this world she had brought everyone to. Everything beat in her head like a drum, a siren song in her ears. She’d learned that the only thing that drowned out her mental screams, staunched her pain, was that of others.

It was cruel, she knew it was, but it was the only thing that gave her some modicum of peace. The only thing aside from…from using Graham.

Well, that ship had sailed.

Regina was aware her face was doing something strange. Her mouth downturned, her eyes burning.

No matter.

She stalked the hallway, to her vault of hearts, and admired the golden walls. The thump of their little gleaming lights glowing in the dim. The light was warm both in colour and actual temperature. All those hearts, all that power, was quite pleasant. She didn’t collect them for nothing after all.

Regina worked her hands free of her gloves, this was a thing better off done skin to skin as it were.

Her fingers tapped against the golden boxes. Fifth down, third to the left…a Huntsman’s heart. Regina scooped it carefully out of the box and held it in her palm. She was always surprised at how small they were. Such a large man as Graham and she was able to encompass the focal point between his body and his soul in even her small fingers.

Betray her? Leave her?

All she had to do was _squeeze_.

Across town Graham’s lips burned from their contact with Emma’s and he staggered away from her, dimly aware of her hands on his shoulders, asking if he was alright. He was a little too far away to answer her right then.

Everything.

He remembered everything.

A torrent of memories washed through him. The wolves, the forest, learning to clothe himself, take on their speech, take on their mannerisms, walk human, talk human, but never be one. _Never_ be one.

Graham sagged against the desk and gulped in great heaving breaths.

The Huntsman. He was the Huntsman.

“Graham? Graham, are you alright?” Emma shook his shoulder and he blinked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

“Emma, I remember.”

“What?”

“I remember. I remember everything.” He grinned then, his eyes shining.

“Uh…okay?” Graham couldn’t stop smiling, he cupped her face in his hands, feeling free. Feeling so free.

He kissed her, because he was happy, because he really knew why he couldn’t feel and that he wasn’t crazy.

Then pain.

Graham choked, sagging in Emma’s arms. Agony exploded throughout his chest. A familiar clawing sensation, a lump of iron in his chest where his heart should be. Graham gasped, clutching at his chest and sinking to the floor, Emma clutched at his shoulders, calling his name, trying to get through to him, but Graham couldn’t hear her rightly over the shrieking of his own body.

Then it stopped.

Graham took long moments to come back to himself and –when he did- it was to the soft patter of Emma’s tears dripping down onto his face. Her face floated over his and his breathing began to slow, his thundering heart (because now he could certainly hear it) dropping from a gallop to a canter and finally slowing to something regular.

It had stopped.

He had felt her. Felt Regina on the other end of the connection. She had been about to kill him, to destroy him for leaving her, just like she had promised…but she hadn’t. She had stopped. What did that mean? A threat? A warning? Did she not have enough magic in this world to finish the job? Should he look forward to a knife in his back instead?

What the hell was going on?

Regina was asking herself that exact same question deep in the vault. She stared down at the heart lying on the floor.

It lay there, rocking minutely in time with its slowing pulse, glowing softly. She watched it intently, her eyes wide and black, and looked at her hand. Her fingers shook, her entire hand and arm trembling.

What…?

Regina stooped and picked up the heart. She cradled it in both hands, examining it like she had never seen it before. It pulsed, strong and steady, thudding its magic and strength against her skin as if in defiance of her ill will towards it.

She hadn’t been able to do it.

Not that she’d been physically unable, her fingers had caged and crushed the heart easily, but that she hadn’t the will to fulfil the task.

The will was important. Enchanted hearts were incredibly strong and powerful. Just one had powered the entire curse, after all. It wasn’t enough to crush one in the hand –no one would be strong enough to do it, it wasn’t just a physical thing- it had to be mental too. You had to _want_ it.

Regina hadn’t hesitated since the unicorn. She’d never lacked the will to crush someone’s little heart in her delicate fingers. Not a human’s anyway.

Impossible.

Regina shook her head sharply and held the heart between her palms, raising her elbows and preparing to squash it between her hands but…but…her arms shook instead and she became aware that her cheeks were cold. Closer examination showed her scarf to be damp, tears staining it.

Tears?

What use had she for tears?

She’d crush his heart and leave, letting the dust decorate the floor. Leave nothing of her unfaithful pet save the ash on the ground and the empty husk of flesh no doubt cooling in the good deputy’s hands.

Yes.

She’d kill him and be back in time to battle with Henry into putting that damned book away and actually getting a good night’s sleep…yes.

…as soon as her hands would obey her command and crush the heart in her palm.

Any minute now.

It hit Regina then. The heart hadn’t changed. It wasn’t stronger, no more indestructible to her wrath than it had been back in the Enchanted Forest. They were magical in and of themselves, as was she, the entire town along with her. She might not be able to tap into the blanketing spell that encompassed the whole of Storybrooke and manipulate it to her will, it was still set to the prerequisites of the curse when she had cast it (though they were certainly deteriorating since Swan had arrived), but she should still be able to crush one if she so desired. They hadn’t changed at all in that sense.

No, it was _her_ heart that had changed.

Regina finally identified the freezing cold that had become an arctic winter in her chest. The desolate pain that clawed at her from the inside.

The choked sob caught her completely by surprise.

“No.” The word was ripped from her in a growl that would have been more at home in the chest of the Huntsman’s dear wolf. “I do NOT love!”

Regina’s treacherous hands cradling his heart oh so gently belied her denial.

No. She was strong. Love was weakness. She had outgrown that need decades ago. Graham was a pleasure toy, a dalliance, a pet. She cared nothing for him beyond what he could do when her back met the sheets at night. She didn’t _love_ him. She had loved one man and he was dead. Gone forever. She was ruined, her heart deadened inside, she couldn’t possibly have it within her to feel that again.

Please, anything but that.

Regina looked down at the heart in her hand and began to shake.

She trembled so violently her teeth rattled against one another. She shook so hard that she barely managed to stuff the heart into her pocket before she dropped it again.

It was a dull roar to begin with. The rising tide of madness.

No, she hadn’t done this in years. Not here, not now, not where she might escape. Not where she might happen to someone.

Not here, not yet, not where someone might hear.

Regina staggered forward. She careened off walls and stumbled on uneven flagstones, disappearing deeper and deeper into the catacombs. She searched for the door, her haggard reflection cast back on her a hundredfold with each mirror she passed.

Her hands scrambled, she couldn’t remember which one.

Which door, which mirror, _which one?!_

_Click._

The mirror swung out and Regina threw herself through the door.

She still shook, barely able to coordinate herself long enough to close it all the way. As soon as it shut, she spun and leaned heavily back against the wall. She felt the lock tumble into place, a lock that had a combination that only a lucid mind could release.

Tumbling and tumbling, she listened to the gears moving with well oiled precision over one another and –when the last pin locked in place- she _raged_.

The scream roared from her, tearing her throat with its ferocity. Her pupils blew, engulfing the coffee dark of her eyes into the mad yawning black of a shark’s frenzied stare. Her lips peeled back over her teeth and her hands curled into claws.

The room was her royal bedchamber. Blue and soft, not black and harsh like the rest of her castle. She had transported it here with the Curse. It was filled with trinkets she had collected over the years, nearly every available space occupied with an elaborate mirror and it was those she fell on first.

It took seconds to ruin her hands.

She smashed them. Every mirror, every reflective surface, beaten to shards beneath her frenzied fists. She tore the frames from the walls, crushed the panes beneath her heels, watched the mercury bead across the plush carpet of the floor. When she was done, when she couldn’t see the warmask her face had twisted into, she moved onto the furniture.

She screamed all the while, in languages long dead and those not yet written. Her rage had to go somewhere and it would escape into the sound housed in her lungs until her throat gave out. Had she still had her magic, she’d have destroyed the room in a maelstrom of force, splintering everything apart with nothing more than a concussive blast of her personality but she didn’t so she had to make do with the old fashioned approach.

Which had a satisfaction to it in and of itself.

It took a long time for her to wear herself out. Miss Swan might have said Regina was unfit from ten years of sitting behind a desk but the little chit didn’t know the half of it. Regina, mad Regina, could and had lain waste to entire platoons of soldiers with nothing more than a fit of pique and a dagger.

When it was done, when the rage bled away with some very real blood into the carpet, Regina surveyed the damage.

Annihilation.

Everything. Everything she had meticulously brought with her from the Enchanted Forest, her most prized possessions, the dearest things she couldn’t bear to part with, gone. Torn, ripped or crushed into smithereens. The carpet had been shredded in places and even the walls bore the marks of her fingernails dragging the velvet paper away and scoring into the stone beneath.

She ached. Even her hair hurt. Every bone and muscle felt every single one of her years and decades beyond that. She was exhausted.

Regina was slumped against the wall with nothing but the destruction of what remained of her haven in the Enchanted Forest and the hoarse sounds of her breathing for company. Slowly, torturously, she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged her arms about them. Letting her forehead drop down onto them, Regina let out a slow breath.

She did not love.

Love was weakness.

She was not weak.

She did not love.

Then…why couldn’t she crush that stupid beast’s heart?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – A Yoke of Heartstrings**

 

_**The Next Morning…** _

 

Henry yawned and rubbed at his eyes, tripping down the stairs and trying to wake up enough to make the monumental decision as to what to have for breakfast. The old faithful of Shreddies or chance his mom’s ill mood and go for some Lucky Charms? Would the sugary buzz be worth the lecture about giving himself diabetes?

Of course, there was always the chance she had slept late and he could get away before she even saw him.

He had heard her come in late the night before. Really late. It had been after two by the time she had padded along the corridor outside his room and Henry had huddled down, desperately feigning sleep for when she opened the door to check on him. He had been up so late reading the book. She would be furious at the best of times, him not getting enough sleep, but over the book? She’d flip her lid. He’d held the overheated flashlight hot in his palm from just having doused it, every sound seemed magnified a thousand times as he listened carefully. Had she noticed? Had she seen the light in the window despite him camping under the duvet?

Henry needn’t have worried.

His mom hadn’t even opened his bedroom door, just continued slowly –very slowly- past his room and into her own. He had heard the shower go on and –even though it had seemed to take forever for him to fall asleep- it had still been running when he had finally slipped into slumber.

Henry slipped into the kitchen quietly, it was dark inside, and flipped the light. A small part of him thought about going up to check on her. Last night had been weird. She always checked on him when she came in. She always showered in the morning too…something wasn’t right and –while Henry was determined to stop the Evil Queen- he was somewhat resigned to her being his mom too and that he kind of…well he DID care about her.

Rats. He was going to have to go and wake her, wasn’t he? She was going to be surly and moody about it too. Having slept in. She’d have coffee instead of breakfast and take it out on someone else because she was in a bad mood.

Another thing Henry needn’t have worried about.

“Mom!” Henry twitched in surprise when he flipped on the kitchen light and found Regina exactly where he hadn’t expected her to be. “What are you doing?”

Regina half turned to him, her hair falling over one side of her face and she watched him for a long moment with just one eye. She seemed to not know him for a moment, then she blinked and it came back to her.

“Henry.”

“Mom? Are you okay?” Henry cautiously approached.

She was sitting on the worktop, her legs tucked up and her feet in the sink. Her feet. In the sink. Henry stared.

“Hurry and have your breakfast.” Regina said instead. “Miss Swan shall be here to collect you soon, I imagine.”

She lifted a coffee cup to her mouth with a hand that barely shook and set it back down on the windowsill with a deliberate and practiced precision. She pried her hand from the coffee cup and Henry stared.

“Mom, your hand!” Henry rushed forward, snatching the steps from under the island counter and planting them in front of the sink. He clambered up, reaching to take her hand in his and take a closer look. “What happened?!”

“Nothing.” Regina bit back her hiss when he closed his fingers around hers and the bandages covering them. She was more gauze than skin at the moment.

“Mom, your feet!” Henry looked down into the water and saw the massacre that was Regina’s feet.

She had ruined her shoes the night before and cut clean through to her feet. It had been a LONG walk –and in places a crawl- back to the manor. She had whiled the night away showering away the grime and blood and had moved on to trying to rebuild her appearance. It had always been much easier with magic, she could erase the damage with a well placed spell or three, but not here. Here she had to make do with medicinal alcohol, bandages and superglue.

Which meant she had been caught before she could fully disinfect her feet and dress them as she had done her hands.

She was really quite lucky that she hadn’t severed a blood vessel or even a finger. She’d been quite far gone the night before and utterly exhausted when she was done.

So far so that the enchanted heart still lay in the pocket of her overcoat slung over the end of her bed where she had dropped it the night before. She did hope Henry didn’t come across it, that might add a little more credence to his claims than she preferred.

Then again, perhaps it was time. Perhaps she was finally done. Maybe they would make it quick. A nice beheading or a proper hanging. She’d rather avoid the stake burning, that wouldn’t do at all.

“What happened to you?”

Regina twisted rather than answer him and reached into the cabinet behind him and over her head. She pulled out a brightly coloured box. Lucky Charms, his favourite.

“Here, make yourself a bowl. You’re going to be late.”

“No.” He frowned at her. “What happened? Did someone do this to you?”

“No. I tripped.”

Henry arched a brow.

“Are you lying to me?”

Regina looked at him a long moment and blinked languidly. There was no reflection in her eyes, Henry noticed, they swallowed even light. They were almost purple this close.

“Yes.”

Henry blinked, thrown.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I must admit, I’m surprised you care.” Regina straightened away from him and picked up her coffee cup again, sipping it and not looking at him. “I would think you’d be delighted to be that much closer to crowing ‘ding-dong, the witch is dead’.”

“That’s not fair.” Henry’s voice was very quiet and his conscience burned him.

“Neither is betraying your mother to the woman who abandoned you, but here we are.” She was staring out the window, only half paying attention to what she was saying, which was why it was the truth.“Get ready for school, Henry. Your ‘real’ mother will be here soon.”

Henry didn’t move. Nothing in him did. He was reeling from the pain her words inflicted. She had never spoken to him like that. She spoke to other people like that. She towered over him on the counter top, not stooping to speak with him in the slightest. That was what she did with other people too. She bent down for him, crouched so they were closer to eye level…not today. Henry felt the loss keenly. He fidgeted, his hand grasping the canister on the counter by the taps.

“Salt?”

“A natural antiseptic.” Her voice was still largely absent.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Henry looked into the cloudy water around his mother’s bare feet. He could see the cuts and bruises latticing over them. The water stained ever so slightly pink.

“Like hellfire.” Regina agreed blandly.

“Why…why would you do that?” Henry looked up at her, more than a little confused and even more so when she laughed suddenly.

“I hope you never find out.” She reached out and stroked his hair, an unconscious gesture, seeming not to notice the way her bandages and plasters caught in the strands.

“Mom…are you okay?” Henry tried again.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

She laughed again and turned to look at him and her smile faltered only when his mouth dropped open.

“Your face!” Henry reached up but she jerked back out of his reach. “Who did that to you?!”

“Henry…”

“No!” Henry slammed the salt canister down on the counter and scattered the white crystals everywhere. “Somebody hit you! Tell me who did it!”

Regina very deliberately scooped up some salt grains and tossed them over her shoulder. She did the same for Henry. Gathering her words.

“It’s none of your concern.”

“You’re my mom! Of course I’m concerned!”

“How nice of you to finally notice.” Regina offered him a tight smile, pained because of the swelling of her lip and jaw. “That does not, however, mean you have the right to interfere. Unlike some, I don’t need a Saviour to fix my problems for me.” Regina pulled her feet from the sink and let the water away. She dried them meticulously with a clean towel and then lowered them down over the side of the cabinets.

“You’re my mom.” Henry said again, less sure this time. “Beating you up is against the law…isn’t it?”

“Henry,” Regina did lean in close then, almost nose to nose, “either you believe I am the Evil Queen, in which case I must surely be destroyed, or I am the woman who raised you and you betrayed by committing theft, running away to find the woman that abandoned you and dragging her back here to rub my face in it. Which, I think, is more malicious than anything a storybook villain could hope to muster.”

“You can’t be both?” Henry was stunned and the question was out before he could stop it.

“Don’t be cruel, Henry.” Regina’s head lifted at the sound of a knock on the front door. She turned her attention back to him as she carefully lowered herself from her perch by the sink. Her teeth bared at the pain that had to thrash her feet but she made no sound of discomfort. “I raised you better than that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Henry was suddenly angry, made more so when he realised his mother was leaving bloody footprints on the white tiles as she walked away from him. She didn’t even turn to look at him when she spoke.

“It means you’ve chosen your side and it’s not mine.”

Henry could only stare as she left him alone in the kitchen. He was left floundering for a long moment before he jumped down off the stool and followed the red footprints past the foyer and the stairs to the front door in time to see Regina open it on Emma.

“Miss Swan.” Regina’s voice was devoid of emotion and Emma paled when she saw the older woman’s face.

“Your face…”

“You are late for that conversation.” Regina cut it off before it could go anywhere. “Henry hasn’t eaten yet. I trust you can muster a bowl of cereal from the kitchen for him?”

“Uh…yeah, sure.” Emma cautiously stepped inside when Regina released the door and turned her back, walking back into the house. The footprints she left in her wake didn’t go unnoticed by the deputy. Emma cast a wild eyed glance at Henry.

Really? Regina had cut up her feet and blackened her eye to gain sympathy from Henry and the town. Great, just great, she kept underestimating the damn psychopath.

“Mom?” Henry twisted when Regina walked with controlled precision past him. Deliberately not limping. “Where are you going?”

“Bed.” Regina answered shortly. “I’m going to take the day.”

Regina gripped the banister of the stairs with a white knuckled hand and sucked in a bracing breath. She hauled with her arm and her jaw clenched when all her weight was put on one lacerated foot. She blanched, but made no sound of pain, and repeated the process. Torturing herself up another step.

“We’re not done talking.” Henry reached through the bars of the railing on the staircase and gripped his mother by the ankle. “Somebody hurt you.”

“Henry,” the word seethed from Regina with brutal control, her eyes bright with pain of every kind imaginable, “if your curse breaks and I am the Evil Queen, what do you think is going to happen to me?”

Henry blinked.

“I…”

“In the Grimm version of Snow White, the evil stepmother was made to wear red hot shoes of iron and dance at Snow and Prince Charming’s wedding until she was dead from burns, pain, exhaustion or perhaps even their insipid company.”

“Regina!” Emma couldn’t believe the venom coming from the woman and directed at Henry of all people.

Regina had never been cruel to Henry in that way. Henry was the only person –at all- who the Mayor treated like a human being.

“What? You mean you haven’t researched this?” Regina arched a brow at Emma. “I would have thought, as a bounty hunter, that you’d be familiar with researching the criminals you brought to justice. If you are going to play along with my son, the least you can do is give it your all.”

“He doesn’t mean…”

“Yes.” Regina’s voice was icy steel. Cold, sharp, brittle and ready to break. “He does.”

“I don’t want you to…I wouldn’t let that happen.” Henry gulped, eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant when I said…”

“You’d prefer a hanging?” Regina looked down at Henry, her bruise blackened face a mask of apathy. “Perhaps being drawn and quartered. Maybe even torn apart by four…well, pickups would be more fitting here I would think.”

“Regina that’s enough!” Emma stepped forward and sliced her hand through the air. “I don’t know what the hell you’re playing at but that’s sick!”

“Mom, I don’t want you to die.”

“Then why paint me the villain?” Regina focussed on Henry again. “Villains die, Henry. It is their lot. Think of that the next time you place that black crown upon my brow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have wounds to lick in peace.” Regina turned back to the stairs and dragged herself up them, ignoring the worried glances on her back as she disappeared into the upper floors of the manor.

Henry, gaping, watched her go.

She had never…he hadn’t meant…gosh, had he?

Every story, every movie, every fable, myth and legend featured a gory demise for the villain of the piece. Henry had been calling his mom evil for so long that…well, he hadn’t thought beyond what would happen when the curse broke. People would be angry –as they should- but that meant they’d come after her and Henry was just ten.

Emma might side with him, maybe, but she was just a deputy. One woman, an outsider, Snow and Charming…he couldn’t imagine they’d be in favour of saving Regina from her apparent just desserts.

“Emma, I didn’t mean it. Not like that.”

“She knows that, kiddo, she’s just pushing your buttons.” Emma squeezed his shoulders. “She likes to do that.”

“Not to me.” Henry looked a little broken. “She lies sometimes –a lot of the time- but she does it because…I dunno, she doesn’t want me to break the curse. She’s never –NEVER- mean to me. Not like that. Not like she is with other people.”

“Listen,” Emma folded her arms over her chest, “I don’t know what she told you, but I didn’t hit her nearly hard enough to do that kind of damage to her face and…”

“ _YOU_ hit her?!” Henry almost screamed it. “It was you?! Why would you do that?!”

“She hit me first!” Emma defended herself and realised how that sounded.

The way Regina looked compared to the distinct lack of bruising on Emma didn’t really speak to her defence. That wily bitch. Henry might be convinced she was never cruel to him, but Emma knew better. She wasn’t blinded by misguided loyalty.

“You’re the Saviour! You’re not supposed to be like that!”

“Really?” Emma planted her hands on her hips. “Think about what you’re saying, Henry. If I really was the Saviour, I’d have to do a lot worse than punch her in the jaw –which was ALL I did- to defeat her. Judging by what the book says about her. If the Evil Queen had all her powers, I think it’d be a pretty short fight and not in my favour.”

Henry frowned and shook his head sharply.

“No. There has to be another way. Mom isn’t going to die and you’re not going to kill her.”

“Well, I knew that.” Emma muttered.

“New plan; Operation…Wolf. Find out who hurt my mom and why.” Henry nodded vigorously to himself. “We’re gonna need a list of suspects.”

“We don’t have a sheet of paper big enough.” Emma said mostly to herself.

“You gonna help or not?!” Henry demanded fiercely.

“Yeah, of course, but it’s gonna have to wait until after school. We’re going to be late.” Emma decided to give up on trying to talk sense into him. She should have thought she’d have learned by now but apparently not.

“Operation Wolf comes first.” Henry got that mulish look on his face. “We gotta go to the police station and file a report with the Sheriff. I want the guy that hurt mom caught and locked up.”

“No way, Regina would skin me alive if I let you bunk school.” Emma shook her head and frogmarched Henry towards the kitchen.

“But…!”

“Nu-uh,” Emma shook her head sharply, “breakfast and then school. We can talk to Graham after.”

“You promise?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

Emma decided not to tell him that he might be visiting the good Sheriff in the hospital.

 

 

_**At the Hospital...** _

 

“Really, I’m fine.” The Huntsman, Graham, fended off Doctor Whale. “I’m discharging myself, going home.”

“Sheriff, you were complaining of chest pains last night. According to Miss Swan, they were so severe you collapsed. I don’t think you should…”

“I have the right to discharge myself.” Graham’s voice hardened.

With his memories returned, he now remembered why he disliked people so much. Pushy and stinking and in his way. He muscled down the urge to stuff Whale into the nearest trashcan and mustered a civil tone instead.

“I’ll be going now. If I feel ill again, I’ll be sure to return.” Graham pulled on his jacket.

Not that he would have to, because he was going to get his heart back from Regina. She had to have it here, that was the only thing that could hurt like that and it was the queen’s hand closing around the heart she had taken from him.

“Fine, but on your own head be it.” Whale shoved a warning finger in Graham’s face and had no idea how close he came to having it bitten off.

Graham had been raised by wolves, after all.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Something in Graham’s voice must have filtered through the doctor’s thick skull because he backed off suddenly.

“Right, well, feel better, I suppose.”

“Your well wishes are appreciated.” Graham growled and forced the doctor to get out of his way when he left the room.

Graham was forced to smile and nod his way out of the hospital but desperately avoided stopping for small talk. He had places to be, after all.

He made it all the way to the front doors of the hospital before he was harassed again.

“Graham!” Emma grabbed his arm and jerked back when he shook her away, rounding on her with teeth bared.

He did not like to be touched.

“Emma.” He forced himself to soften when she blinked in confusion.

Of course, she didn’t know what was going on. Well, she didn’t believe at any rate.

“What?”

“You should be in the hospital! You nearly had a heart attack.”

“I feel fine.”

“But you shouldn’t…”

“I. Feel. Fine.” Graham couldn’t keep the growl from his voice.

“Oh…okay.” Emma frowned but backed off a little. “I’ll take you home then.”

“Fine. I need a shower anyway.” Graham had been overjoyed the night before, to get his memories back, to know who he was, to know he could fix what was wrong with him.

But fixing what was wrong with him involved going back to Regina and –if she still had his heart- he’d never get close enough to do a thing. Still, he had to try.

“How’s your face?” Graham glanced at Emma, trying to remember what he should do since he was supposed to like people.

This was bizarre. Two lives running riot through his head. It was disorientating, but he could already feel himself adjusting, realigning.

“Fine, better than Regina’s.”

Graham looked up at her sharply.

“You’ve seen her this morning?”

“Yeah, I picked up Henry for school. He wants to talk to you, by the way.”

“About his book?” Graham could have sounded more enthused by the prospect of having his eyeteeth pulled with a pair of rusty pliers.

“No…about Regina.”

Graham frowned.

“She’s…she looks like shit. Someone worked her over after we left her. I thought it was self-inflicted at first but she seems…different.”

“Different?”

“I dunno, she always seems vicious and cruel but today…she was mean to Henry.”

Graham frowned. It could be argued that he knew the queen better than anyone. He had been working under her for…well, for a long time in one way or another. He knew her mercurial moods, knew how vicious she could be. He also knew from this world how she doted on the boy. She loved him –or as close to it as she could come to it with her blackened heart. She was cruel to everyone…everyone save Henry.

“To Henry? You’re sure?”

“She told him what he meant when he called her the Evil Queen, when he said he wanted nothing more than to break the curse…she said it meant that he wanted her dead. She started talking about being torn apart by pickups. It was pretty brutal.” Emma hunched her shoulders and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “The kid was pretty shaken up.”

“So…what do you want me to do?” Graham rested a hand on top of the yellow VW Bug while Emma wrestled the keys out of her pocket.

“Well, she has been worked over. That is a crime, even if she is a psycho.” Emma shrugged. “That and…she knows you pretty well, she may actually tell you what happened.”

“No she won’t.”

“Graham she might have been…” Emma stalled and looked away. “She was beat up. Regina’s no angel but nobody deserves that. You’re the sheriff it’s kind of in your job description to stop this kind of stuff from happening.”

Graham growled and looked away from her.

Oh yes, that was his job now, to ride herd on people and save them from their own selfish problems. By all rights, he should still be a hunter, a hunter of criminals…had Regina seen fit to bring him a criminal population worthy of his skill.

No.

Instead he had been given the occasional bar brawl and parking ticket. Hardly worth his time.

There had been a time when he had hunted with wolves, when he had run naked and wild under the moon. Torn down animals with nothing save his teeth, his strength, and the company of his lupine siblings. The forest had been in his bones, the chase in his blood, the thrill had been the light in his eyes.

Now?

Now he was a lackey, his clothing might have changed but his purpose remained the same; her pet.

No more.

“Alright, I’ll go to her.” Graham turned back to Emma, his eyes bleak. “See what she has to say.”

“Good.” Emma nodded and gave a lopsided smile. “Henry will be glad. He’s ready to fetch pitchforks and light torches over this.”

“I want to shower first.” Graham wanted to be out of her company more.

The Graham part of him had liked her, liked her vulnerability, liked her humour, her softness.

The Huntsman was a different animal entirely. A wolf in human skin.

Wolves had no need for softness unless that of a mother for her cub and –even then- that was tempered in the fierce maternal protection any she-wolf worth her fur could mete out. Humour? Wolves had humour, but hardly something that would be understood by humans. Wolves knew nothing of vulnerability, for the weak were taken by the forest. Graham had risen to be the Alpha of his pack, his human shape meaning little to his family, and alphas chose alphas.

Emma was not an alpha. Simple as.

“Right.” Emma shifted awkwardly and looked away from his gaze first.

She missed the way his jaw clenched at the submission. How…boring.

“Well, I’ll drive you home then.” Emma held her breath a moment and gathered herself. Graham’s hand clenched on the door whilst he waited for her to lather herself up into opening her damn mouth. “About last night…”

“It won’t happen again.”

Emma blinked and her blue eyes darted to his green.

“Oh, uh, good…then.” She smiled tightly and Graham shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Graham might have been charming and affable with everyone –biddable- but he felt distinctly like the Huntsman right then and the Huntsman was none of those things.

“Good.” Graham nodded.

“Uh…hop in then.” Emma threw open her door and dived into the car.

Graham waited while she leaned over to flip the lock open. He clambered inside and grimaced when his knees were nearly up to his ears in the cramped space.

He hated this damn car.

 

_**The Manor...** _

 

Regina sat on her couch in the living room, tumbler of cider in one hand, staring at her bandaged feet.

She had finally managed to get them taped back together so she looked less like some macabre jigsaw puzzle and they might actually heal right.

She had slept little, despite having lain in bed for most of the day. She had finally given up and soothed herself a little by cleaning the bloody footprints she had left on the carpet. She had been surprised to find the clumsy attempts at cleaning on the kitchen tile, she suspected Henry’s involvement, but it mattered little.

Regina sipped her cider and savoured the burn against her split lip.

She had always liked cleaning. Especially after one of her crimes. She did like the messy ones and perhaps it was because she enjoyed cleaning them up. It was part of her ritual. She destroyed, massacred, and then cleaned everything away afterward.

Disposed of bodies –burning them usually- cleaning the weapon she had used, mopping up the blood, wiping away the tear stains, setting the furniture to rights.

Like nothing had ever happened.

The person causing her problem disappeared and the scene replenished as if they had never existed in the first place. No loose ends. A job well done. Nice and neat. Ordered. In control.

Nothing about this was under control.

“Graham.” She spoke before she had even fully processed his presence.

She was almost surprised when he stepped around the couch and into her view. He towered over her, staring down at her with cold green eyes and she saw. The wildness, the fire. No matter how long she’d had him, how she’d used him, she’d never been able to snuff that flame. Never been able to own him completely.

“Huntsman.” She corrected herself.

“Majesty.” Graham, the Huntsman, whoever, prowled around the coffee table and sat with dangerous precision on the seat opposite her couch. He watched her with a gimlet unblinking stare. “So you are aware.”

“Of course.” Regina nodded to the cider decanter on the coffee table. “Help yourself.”

“A little early is it not?”

Regina shrugged.

“Henry worries for you.”

“No he doesn’t.” Regina snorted and drank from her cider again.

“He does.”

“What do you care?” She lanced him with a look, unhappy with the line of the conversation.

“I like the lad.” Graham shrugged. “He can’t help being your son.”

“As he has been so willing to point out; he is not my son.” Regina bit out, knowing that was what he had wanted to hear. To stick the knife in her weak spot.

She wondered if he had any idea that he was the other chink in her armour. The chink right over her heart. Stupid woman, she berated herself again.

“He still worries.”

“He will forget in time.” Regina drank from her cider again.

It was quickly going to her head. It had a kick at the best of times, but she had been without food for the entire day. Not a good combination.

The Huntsman frowned at her and tilted his head. His eyes dropped to her neck briefly and she nearly smirked.

He could call her evil all he wanted –and she was evil, she knew that- but she wasn’t the only stone cold killer in the room. She, at least, had never torn out a man’s throat with her teeth.

“It was one of your rages.” His voice was quiet, his eyes ticking over her injuries. “You did do this to yourself.”

“Swan inquires.” Regina rolled her eyes and turned to look out the window. “Insipid twit.”

“She’s a good person.”

“More fool her.”

The Huntsman’s chin tilted down and he looked at her from under hooded eyes. She couldn’t help the thrill that raced through her at such a dark and dangerous look.

He could kill her, she realised suddenly. Quickly, easily, effortlessly even. With his bare hands. He could leap across that table and literally tear her head from her shoulders and there would be next to nothing she could do about it. She had no magic to her name, he was bigger, broader and stronger than her.

All this time, all their relationship –if you could call it that- she had been in control. She had been the stronger between the two of them. She had been the one to call the shots. When to summon him, when to send him away…no longer. He was stronger. She loved him. He held all the cards.

The sound the tables made as they turned grated thunderously through her head so loudly that she shivered.

“Someone treading on your grave, majesty?” The Huntsman smirked, enamoured with the prospect of dancing on her grave himself probably.

“It’s cold in here.” Regina lied smoothly.

“You’ve never felt the cold in the past.”

“On the contrary, I feel cold every day.” Regina summoned a smile from somewhere and they measured each other with long glances.

This veil of civility couldn’t last. Not with her teetering on the edge and not with him going slowly rabid for the return of his heart. Emotion and pain bled from them in streamers and clouds so thick and fast it seemed to make Regina’s ears pop with the pressure.

“Say what you came to say.” She spoke quietly.

“Where is it?”

“Not here.”

“Liar.”

“Not so. Your heart is the one thing keeping me alive right now. Without it, I’m defenceless.”

“Not a day in your life.”

“You know that’s not true.” Something stark flashed in her eyes and Graham looked away from her.

He did know that.

Back in the Enchanted Forest, before she’d ever heard of the curse of curses, he had been her right hand man. He had spent the most time with her, not just in her bedchamber but at court, during meetings of state and –often- she’d had him shadow her when she walked the gardens of the palace. He had been one of the few allowed to stand in the shadow of her apple tree without reprimand and she had often spoken to him. The same way someone speaks mostly to themselves but knows that their pet is listening, even if it didn’t understand.

The Huntsman had understood, every word, and he’d seen early on that –as deeply as she had wounded him- she was so far from whole herself it might have been laughable had it not been so tragic.

“Will you give it back to me?” Graham looked at her hard then and he measured her every move. The hitch in her breath when his eyes met hers, the way her fingers tightened on the tumbler of cider in her hand and he knew- when she spoke- she was telling the truth.

“I don’t know.” Regina inhaled a heaving breath and inspected her drink. “You will believe this or you won’t; but living here has changed me. This curse…is a curse to all. It cost me dearly and it costs me still. The only things I have left are my life and Henry and even one of those slips from me now…if I return your heart to you, there is nothing to stop you from turning on me or Henry. For you have always known where to strike the killing blow, Huntsman.”

“Henry has nothing to do with us, you have always made that clear and I will abide by those wishes even now. If you return my heart to me.” The Huntsman spoke evenly despite the thrill that went through him at the prospect of being complete once more. He had dreamed of it for years, years and years, and now it was finally a possibility.

It was heady stuff.

“And me, Huntsman? What will you do to me once I return it to you?” Regina tilted her head and he saw she was right. She had changed.

The Evil Queen still sat opposite him but there was also the Mayor and the Mother…as well as a very tired and broken woman. Regina was all of those things and more and –as horrific as she was, as dangerous as she could be- she would always be fascinating too.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Graham was surprised when he realised it was the truth.

She frowned at him, not seeing the lie either but still unable to believe it.

“I will return it to you on one condition.”

“I’ll not kill for you, not again.”

She smiled, a sad smile, and shook her head.

“I do not ask for me. The curse is breaking and –with it- this life I had carved out for myself here. Everything is breaking down and when it does finally crumble…there will be an angry mob out there with my name on it. I cannot cross the town border, I am as trapped here as everyone else, but I imagine I shall be dealt with fairly swiftly.”

“Your price?”

“Protect Henry.” Regina stared at her bandaged feet for a long moment. “He may not love me anymore, but I’m still his mother, I will gladly die for him…when I’m gone, I pass that to you. Protect him with your life, Huntsman. As you did his grandmother, fly in the face of all costs and consequences and keep him safe.”

“Henry will hardly be in danger from the people of this town. He’s the son of the Saviour.”

“And also that of the Evil Queen. Thanks to my recent action, people here believe him one step down from a raving lunatic, there will be those that would believe in nurture over nature and it would be those that would do him harm.”

“You really…you ask me to save him and not you? Truly?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Huntsman,” her grin had a gleam of cruelty to it then, “I’ll not go without a fight but I am fully aware that the only thing I’ll be able to do is take one or two of them with me.” She chuckled. “I don’t even know how to use a gun.”

Graham said nothing, he couldn’t think of how to put everything he felt into words. He didn’t even know the full extent of it yet.

“I would be bound to your loyalty even after your death.” He said instead.

“You would be bound to Henry, not I.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. “That is my price.”

“How can I trust you?”

She snorted and sipped at her cider.

“You can’t. I am the Evil Queen and will forever serve my own purpose, it just so happens that now both our purposes may be joined. Swear fealty to my son and I shall give you your heart back.”

“I’d be putting my life on the line for nothing.”

“Not for nothing.” Regina snapped. “For Henry.”

“They won’t attack him.”

“Then why does it matter to you? You’ll have your heart back.”

“Because if there’s no real reason that I can see, you’re working your own agenda and I’ll not be party to your schemes again. I’m done with being your lackey.”

Regina chuckled. Of course he wouldn’t believe her. No sane man would. Why should he trust her after all these years?

“Then this conversation is over.”

“It’s my heart.”

“Which does not come without a price.” Regina bit right back at him. “I have made mine known, think on if you’re willing to pay it.”

She glanced away from him and he melted away from her whilst her eyes were averted, as any good hunter would.

She felt his presence in the room a long time after he was gone.

What the hell was she going to do?

 

**_Graham’s House..._ **

 

Graham looked so peaceful when he slept.

Regina had always thought that.

No matter what she did to him or how she used him, when he slept, when she allowed him to sleep at her side, she had always watched him and she had always envied him that peace. It would seem , no matter how much she thought she owned him, he could always escape her into his dreams.

Regina melted forward, out of the shadows, and stood over his bed.

This was madness, stupidity of the highest order. He’d come for her. Once he had his will, he’d kill her. Most likely cut out her heart the way she’d wanted him to kill Snow. It would be fitting, she supposed. What Henry wanted. The Evil Queen dead and gone.

It had only hit her that morning, exactly what Henry meant every time he told her he wanted the Evil Queen defeated…because that’s what it would take. She would never give up, never give in, they’d have to kill her to get her to give up her son.

He could love her again…couldn’t he?

Couldn’t he?

He could, couldn’t he?

Regina gulped, her eyes burning.

She wasn’t just losing her son, she had already lost him. She had…she had nothing. Not Henry, not Graham, not her happy ending. The curse was breaking, it was a matter of time before everything came crashing down and…and she no longer cared.

What did it matter really?

She had betrayed Daniel, she loved another. She had opened herself to all that pain, all that misery, yet again. Henry had his birth mother now, Graham was lost to her as well, now that he knew who she was, who he was.

Wouldn’t it be nice? For it to finally be over. To finally rest, to sleep, to not be subjected to the torture of her own broken heart. To be…free.

Regina reached up, tucking her hair behind her ears and leaning over, Graham’s bed. She looked down at him, memorising his face, knowing that he would be her murderer, one way or the other. One hand dropped, delving into her pocket and she flinched violently when his eyes flashed open and his hand manacled her wrist all in one motion.

Graham roared sitting up and wrenching with his hand on her arm. Regina yelped when she was sent flying across the bed.

She screamed when something cracked in her wrist when it twisted and something popped in her shoulder when she hit the floor and was sent tumbling.

Graham threw back his sheets and hurled himself from his bed, snarling and terrible. His eyes glinted in the dark and something metal flashed in his hand.

Regina winced her way to a sitting position, her entire arm was numb. She gasped when his hand fisted in her hair and he dragged her upright. She noticed in passing that he was completely naked. Of course he was, that was how he slept.

The knife was shockingly cold when he jammed it into her middle


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Broken Hearted**

 

He’d stabbed her.

Regina made a strange sound, something between a wet choke and a gasp. Her eyes went wide and blood coughed from between her lips. The knife had slid into her so hard that it had lifted her clean off the floor for a second. She had to scramble at his shoulders to hold on when her feet hit the floor again. Gosh, her shoes seemed really far away all of a sudden.

Regina hung on the blade, her mind a white plane of shock, her nails scraping over his skin as she struggled to process the freezing hot sensation of a blade in her chest.

“Well,” the word spilled from her lips with a mouthful of blood, “that was entirely expected.”

“Regina?” Graham’s hand released the knife and he stared down at her, gripping her elbows to keep her upright. “What…?”

“You stabbed me.” Regina knew he suffered from the same bloodlust she did. A trait she had been sure to nurture in him. He probably hadn’t even been aware of where he was, he’d just seen her looming over him and he’d reacted on instinct. Only this time he’d been able to act on it. She had no magic to bind him to the bed. “To be fair, not the first time you’ve done it.”

Her smile showed pink blood stained teeth and her wink was a little lazy. There was a lot of blood. She knew there was only about eight pints in a human body but that seemed to be a LOT of blood on the floor.

“God,” Graham sank with her to the floor when her knees buckled, “what have I done?”

“What you had to.” Regina was beginning to find it difficult to breathe. She could feel the metal of the knife digging into her lungs with every breath.

“I didn’t want this!”

“I find that…hard to…believe.” Regina coughed, blood spattering onto Graham’s face he was cradling her so close.

Her hand was fumbling, incredibly still in her pocket, her fingers felt cold and weak. She rallied the last of her strength. She hadn’t done what she’d come here to do.

“No, I didn’t, you’re so…broken.” Graham stared down at her as if it was news to him. “I didn’t want you dead.”

“You wanted me to suffer…wish granted.” Regina managed something of a smile and she lifted her hand torturously from her pocket.

Her head was beginning to loll, she didn’t seem to have the strength to hold it up. Her fingers quested over his chest by memory. Not just his chest but hundreds of others. Find the sternum, track over it with the thumb, turn the heel of her hand forty five degrees…and sink the fingers in.

“No!” Graham saw her hand gripping his heart and assumed the worst. That if she was going he was damn well coming with her.

“For you…”

Regina with a strength she hadn’t known she possessed, pressed the heart to the wall of his chest, his grip slackened when he felt she wasn’t trying to hurt him. She had been tender in the past, of course, when she had wanted something or been sad or convinced herself enough that he was her lost love. Those had been the nights when he’d come away without bleeding.

Then, here, when he’d gone to her willingly…she’d…she’d given a damn good impression of making love to him.

“I did…you know…in my way.” Regina was still choking on her blood but there seemed to be less of it, or she was breathing less. Maybe both.

“Did what?”

“Love…you…” Regina’s fingers trailed from his chest when the light in her eyes began to dim.

They fluttered closed, her body tilting, falling into his and she rested there as if she had fallen sleep. There, like that, finally free, she looked rested. She looked at peace.

Thunder boomed overhead.

Outside, in the clear night sky, storm clouds boiled into being. They frothed and writhed in the sky. Thunder clashed and rang out across the valley of the town, lightning flashed deep within the depths of the clouds and some of it seemed…purple.

The ground began to quiver. The air shivered around them. Windows thrummed in their panes, dogs barked and car alarms sounded. The pressure mounted and mounted and mounted. It was unbearable.

Graham didn’t notice.

“Regina.” He shook her. “Regina!” He shook her harder but she was limp and unmoving in his arms. “No. NO!”

Graham loomed over her, letting her down onto the floor and studying her. No. She couldn’t be dead, not really, she was indestructible. She was the Evil Queen. She had taken more than her fair share of beatings in the past. He’d seen her run through with a lance and she had turned and impaled her attacker on it before she’d pulled it out and spelled the wound closed. Like she hadn’t even felt it.

That was what she was. Marble, cold and unfeeling, indestructible. She couldn’t _die_.

It was then that he was aware of what he was feeling. He was _feeling_. Graham looked down and huffed out a whooshing breath of shock when he saw it. His heart. There, plain to see, sticking out of his chest. Pulsing a pounding red threaded with purple and a lurid verdant green. She had died before she could push it back in.

Hearts were strong, right? She could use them to do anything and they were magic. Even in this land without magic, they were magic. Graham’s hand closed over his heart before he could think better of it and he yanked.

Then something impossible happened.

It broke.

Graham made a wordless sound of shock when it just cracked like an egg in his hand. He stared open mouthed at half of his own heart in his hand. It still pulsed, red, purple and green. Still beat strong and hard, kicking in his hand. Looking down at his chest, he could see the other half sinking beneath the skin. He gulped in hard breaths, trying to process and then deciding he could figure it out later.

Graham tore open her coat and ripped open her shirt under it. He hesitated a moment, it needed to be right, the placement. He had one chance. Where had she…?

She was growing cold, he was out of time. Graham pressed his pulsing heart over where her still one lay within her chest and pushed.

It was so easy.

His heart sank beneath her skin without even a token resistance. His fingers plunging in with it and her entire body jolted. He felt the layers of skin, the strands of muscle, the bone, the foam of her lung against his knuckles and then the heavy density of her still heart. He pushed the living half of his heart onto her dead one and commanded her.

“Live.”

Regina jolted as if struck by lightning and her eyes flew wide. She whooped in a screaming breath and her hands clawed at him. Her heart kicked, faltering and faint, but it was beating.

The thunder boomed into a deathly silence. The ground ceased to shake. Then –with a hissing sound of the approaching deluge- the heavens opened.

Rain, rain the likes of which no mortal storm could conjure, fell in a torrent down onto the town. Raindrops as big as golf balls hammered into the roads and sidewalks. They drummed on roofs and battered against windows. Roads were quickly turned to rivers and it pounded into the town like it was trying to beat it into nothing.

“What have you done?!” Regina’s legs kicked with the agony and uncontrolled signals coursing through her body as it came screaming back to life.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily.” Graham laid her gently onto her back and snatched up a pair of pants. He hauled them over her legs and turned back to her. “Don’t you dare pull that out.” He slapped her hands away from the knife still angled up beneath her ribs.

A perfect killing strike. He knew his craft well after all.

“It hurts.” She choked, tears streaming down her face. “It’s so heavy. I feel like I have a rock in my chest.”

Blood was still trickling from her mouth but less than the great streams of it that it had been before he had saved her.

“It’s the knife, come on.”

Regina screamed when he lifted her. She couldn’t help it. Everything hurt. It had been better when she had thought she was dying. That had been cold, numb, this was like she was on fire.

Graham kicked open the door of his bedroom and stormed his way out of the house, pausing only to snatch up his keys to his truck.

It was like walking out into a waterfall. The howling rain plastered down onto them, soaking them to the skin in seconds. Regina groaned in pain when the hammering rain rattled the knife in her midsection and every droplet drilled into her like she was being pelted with ice.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re going to the hospital. I’m not letting you die.” Graham fumbled the car door open and lowered them both into the driver’s seat.

“Why not?” Regina whimpered when he put her into the passenger’s seat and clapped her hands over her wound for her.

“Put pressure here.” Regina’s hands clamped to the wound and pressed harder than she’d have thought possible.

“This is going to be hard to explain.” She coughed a laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” Graham jammed the key in the ignition and threw the truck into reverse.

It screamed out of the driveway and onto the road, peeling into a hairpin turn. The tyres squealed, slithering on the slick road, when he sandwiched the accelerator between his foot and the floor. He held onto her legs, draped over his lap as they were. She had lost one of her shoes somewhere.

“They’ll put you away for this.” Her voice was weak.

“Don’t you dare die.” Graham warned her and she stiffened as if she’d been hit with a tazer.

“They will.” She sounded stronger then. “Trying to kill me…back in the Enchanted Forest –heh- you’d have been sainted. Here…they’ll crucify you.”

“I’ll explain. You startled me.” Graham tore through the town. There was no traffic, everyone was asleep. They’d be in the hospital in minutes and then…then his life would be over. He’d given half his heart to keep her alive and he couldn’t even say why.

“A five foot five woman against a six foot two man? They won’t care how startled you were, dear. They’ll only see the knife.”

“Don’t take it out. It’s the only thing plugging the wound.” He snarled at her.

“There’s my Huntsman.” Regina spoke through gritted teeth. She felt like her chest was filled with lead. Her heart kept clenching, at least, that was what it felt like.

“You should save your strength.”

“Say it was someone else.” Regina was panting, her chest felt so strange. Weighty. “Say that I came to you for help.”

“In the middle of the night?” Graham couldn’t believe he was going along with this.

Then again, it would have to get in line along with everything else he couldn’t believe he’d done that night.

“What would you be doing at my house at two in the morning?”

“The same thing we do every time I’m there I imagine.” Regina gasped.

“You’d have to explain to them that we’re lovers.”

“Were.” Regina corrected quietly and he jostled her legs.

“Stay with me.” Regina groaned in pain but seemed to rally herself.

“A small town like this? People already know. Now that the curse isn’t clouding everything. They know.”

“How can you tell?” The hospital was in view. Not much further.

“You never wonder why no one else approached you? You’re the most eligible man in town, dear. I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” Regina’s eyes were closed, her face a mask of pain. “You’re mine. I made sure enough people knew.”

“Nobody will believe some stranger suddenly decided to knife you.” Graham peeled into the parking lot.

“Me? Of course they will. Even here everybody hates me.” Regina dredged a laugh from somewhere again. “And who do you think will be doing the investigation? You can’t very well arrest yourself, can you?”

Graham said nothing, of course she was good at this.

He screeched to a halt in the ambulance bay and threw himself from the car, dashed around the front and opened the passenger side door. She tumbled into his arms and he hoisted her against his chest.

“You’re not allowed to die, you hear me? I forbid it.” Regina groaned as if he was killing her all over again, blanching marble white and nodding hurriedly.

“I hear you.”

“Good.” Graham rushed through the automatic doors of the hospital and set about waking everyone up.

“Help!” He bellowed. “I need help!”

The receptionist looked up from her soap opera and snapped to attention when she saw the Mayor lolling in the Sheriff’s arms.

“She’s been stabbed!” Graham didn’t lower his voice. “I need HELP!”

Doctors were finally responding, nurses snapping into action.

All too soon, Regina was pulled from his arms and onto a gurney.

Graham stood, chest heaving, in the foyer of the hospital and watched her wheeled away.

He didn’t miss the way her head lifted before they rounded the bend, didn’t miss the way her hand reached out to him before she was wheeled out of sight.

He was entirely unaware that his own hand opened and stretched towards her too.

Gods, what had he done?

 

 

_**Later…** _

 

Graham sat in the waiting room of the hospital and tried not to go out of his mind.

He _ached_.

He could feel it. He could feel his heart, the physical meat heart, thudding steadily in his chest but he could also feel the pulsing throb of his other heart. The heart of his soul that Regina had ripped out so many years ago. It felt like a rock in his chest. He had never imagined that it would hurt so much to be complete again. He knew it was only half his heart, the other half now in Regina’s chest, but he certainly felt like he had a whole heart worth of pain.

It was hellish, this miasma of pain and confusion that swirled horrifying and tearing in his chest. A hurricane of hate and…and…he didn’t know what else. His head ached. His chest felt like it was filled with lead. He hurt all over.

Graham stared down at his bare feet on the cold linoleum floor.

He’d pulled on pants at his house but hadn’t bothered with a shirt or shoes. One of the nurses had gone to try and find him some slippers but he suspected she had been distracted by the drama of the Mayor’s surgery and had forgotten to bring them to him. Someone had mentioned something about scrubs so he could wash up and get changed into something that wasn’t splattered in blood but no one had come back to check on him.

It was all kind of hazy. He remembered signing something –though he hardly thought himself capable of the hand-eye coordination required for a signature- and he had been surprised that he was listed as Regina’s next of kin. In the event of her being harmed…her life was in his hands.

Despite everything, all of it, she had trusted him with that?

Graham shivered. He was cold, but it was a physical cold. Internally he was practically on fire.

Exultation at having finally meted out a little pain to the hateful bitch that had leashed him, horror at yet more blood covering his hands and more because of her, guilt at having nearly robbed Henry of the only family he’d ever really known, worry that this was all going to come back to bite him in the ass if Emma didn’t believe his sketchy story as to what had happened to Regina and…and…fuck.

He felt like whipping himself for hurting Regina.

Graham folded forward and pressed his thumbs to his eyes, his elbows propped on his knees.

She was evil, he reminded himself. Evil and horrible and she had enslaved him for decades. She had made him do cruel and twisted things, turned him into nothing more than a glorified attack dog. She had used him nearly every night for decades and –gods above and below damn him- but there had been parts of him that had enjoyed it. Wicked, cruel, dominant, wild parts of him that had liked nothing more than the excuse to do as he willed. To tear people apart, to kill them for the slightest insult to himself or his queen, to fuck a woman like he could never break her. To be taken harder than any other man could take.

Was this Stockholm Syndrome?

Had she broken his mind along with his spirit?

Was he just so used to the cruelty, to the damage, that he had fooled himself into thinking he liked it?

Graham glanced up at the clock. It was just after four.

Shit, where was Emma? He had called her almost a half hour ago. It didn’t take that long to get dressed and haul her ass over to Regina’s did it?

He’d sketched out what had happened to her. Told her Regina had been in an accident and he was her next of kin so he was stuck at the hospital. Henry should be looked after in the meantime. Despite Regina’s dislike for her, Emma was available and could actually be trusted to look after Henry for a few hours. Especially if he was asleep for the majority of that time.

Graham huffed out a breath.

He was not looking forward to telling Henry what had happened to Regina. The censored version at least. She might believe Henry didn’t love her anymore, but Graham knew that wasn’t true. A little boy couldn’t hold that much anger in his heart towards someone without caring for them deeply. If he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t care at all.

He was going to be crushed by this.

Yet another lie told to him and –hopefully- he’d never know the truth.

Though if Regina was right and the curse really was broken and she really did get killed by an angry mob, Graham supposed it would be a moot point.

_“WHERE’S MY MOM?!”_

Graham bodily flinched at the bellow that went through the hospital. He surged to his feet and he was running along the corridor before he made a conscious decision to do so. He slithered to a halt in the lobby and Henry’s frantic eyes fell on him and went saucer wide.

“Graham!”

Henry tore across the lobby towards the Sheriff, a sob catching in his throat, but he refused to let it take hold. He skidded to a halt and stared in horror at the state of the man.

“Is that…?” Henry reached out hesitantly to Graham’s chest and he glanced down at himself.

“Shit.” Graham remembered that he looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a grizzly bear. He was splattered with dried blood over his chest, it had soaked into his pants and was even spotted over his feet. Not to mention nearly caking him to the elbow.

“Henry, it’s not as bad as it looks…”

“Are you kidding me?!” Henry nearly shrieked. “That’s, like, two people’s blood there! What happened?!”

“Your mom was attacked tonight, she was near my house so she came to me for help,” Graham decided to stick with as much of the truth as he could, “I brought her here as quick as I could. She’s in surgery right now.”

“Someone attacked her?” Henry’s voice was incredibly small.

“Henry!” Emma spotted them and came running. “Damn it, kid, I told you to wait for me.”

“You said this wouldn’t happen!” Henry rounded on her. “You said you’d get the guy that attacked her!”

“Hey, whoa, kid…” Emma held up her hands. “I…”

“It’s my fault, Henry.” Graham spoke over Emma’s stammering and gently turned the boy back to face him. He wondered what Regina might do to comfort him, so he sank down into a crouch so they were nearly eye level. “Your mom and I have had a…falling out recently. I should have been looking after her and I wasn’t because I was mad at her.”

“You…you’re the sheriff!” Henry burst out, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “You’re supposed to be a good guy! You’re supposed to put people’s safety above personal…personal stuff!”

Henry clenched his fists and seethed with the all-consuming anger that only children can really muster.

“You should have made up with her! If you had, she wouldn’t have gone to see you! You’d be in our house and she’d have been safe!”

Emma blinked and stared at the back of Henry’s head. Nobody had known if Henry had known about Regina and Graham and nobody had seen fit to ask him.

“Someone attacked her last night and neither of you did ANYTHING!” Henry looked between them. “What kind of good guys are you?!”

“Human ones.” Graham could find no better apology than that. “I’m sorry, Henry.”

“Sorry won’t help my mom.” Henry’s voice was frigid and damning. He channelled Regina pretty well.

“I know. I spoke to doctor Whale, he says she should be okay. She lost a lot of blood but Whale says I got her here in time.”

Henry’s chin wobbled and he looked hurriedly down at the floor.

“Thanks, for that…I guess.” Henry sniffed. He lifted his head and the tears finally started to fall. His voice cracked when he spoke. “You really think she’s going to be okay?”

“Absolutely.” Graham managed something of a smile. “Your mom is far too stubborn to die.”

Henry gave a watery smile and something like a wet laugh.

“Yeah, she sure is.”

“Okay, why don’t you go and sit in the seats over there? They’re right outside the surgery rooms. If Doctor Whale comes out, he’ll see you first. I need to talk to Emma for a bit.”

“’Kay.” Henry nodded and hurried over to the seats. He sat on one, his hands tucked under his legs, and stared hard at the doors. Willing them to open.

“Jesus, Graham,” Emma hissed at him as soon as Henry was out of earshot, “what the hell do you think you’re doing? You look like an extra from a bad slasher movie! Why didn’t you clean up?”

“I’ve been a little occupied with what’s been going on!” Graham snarled at her. “And what do you mean ‘what am I doing?’ what are YOU doing?! I told you to go and look after Henry, not traumatise him in the middle of the night!”

“He was already awake when I got over there, about to head out and look for Regina. I HAD to tell him what was going on and then he insisted on coming over here.”

“He’s ten years old! You’re the adult, you didn’t think to tell him that there’d been some sort of emergency? That Regina had actually sent you to look after him because she was needed elsewhere? Something that might have saved him some heartache?”

“Lie to him?!” “You used to be a con-artist, I’m sure that it’s within your repertoire.”

“Hey, I’m not her, I won’t LIE to Henry just because…”

“So help me god, if you keep trying to score points off her when she could die, I’ll throw you out that door over there.” Graham snarled, pointing to the main doors of the hospital. “Right now, opening it first is optional.”

“Hey, listen…”

“No. YOU listen,” Graham loomed in front of her, covered in blood and boiling with anger, happy to vent it at someone, “you don’t know anything about her or what she’s been through. You don’t know her motivations, you don’t know her life and you certainly don’t know how to handle Henry like she does.”

“You’re not even together anymore.” Emma frowned.

“I still care about her.” Graham would have been uncomfortable to realise that was true at any other time but he was so damn angry right then. “We’ve been together a long time. She’s fierce and a bitch and she’s rude but she’s given everything you refused to give to Henry. She raised him right. For that alone, you will speak of her with respect if not affection.”

Emma blinked up at him, staring for a long moment.

“You kissed me last night.” She said quietly. “Not the other way around. Don’t take it out on me if you’re feeling guilty about it.”

“Contrary to what Henry might believe, not everything is about you.” Graham couldn’t keep the contempt from his voice. Regina might well still die and –with her- a rather important piece of himself. All Swan could think about was a sodding kiss? This was why he hated people. “It was a moment of ill judgement on my part. It won’t happen again. You’re not a patch on her.”

Emma’s jaw clenched and she looked away from him, swallowing hard.

“Anything else?” She tried to keep her voice under control but there was a quaver to it that she couldn’t help.

“Aye,” Graham nodded his head towards Henry, “look after him for five minutes whilst I get cleaned up and find something new to wear. You can control him that long, right?”

“Yes.” Emma bit out.

“Outstanding.” Graham spun on his heel and went to find that nurse that had said something about slippers.

He knew he should feel bad about crushing Emma that way. She didn’t trust easily and he’d just cruelly cast it back in her face. Told her she was nothing. Part of him did feel a little guilty about it, but there was a much larger part that was steeped in the bone deep habit of viciously protecting his queen’s reputation against any slight.

Graham growled when he realised that –whilst Regina might have tried to give him his heart back- it would seem that she still owned him.

Fuck.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Vigil**

 

Henry was like a cat on a hot tin roof.

His mom had been out of surgery for a whole day now and they still wouldn’t let him in to see her. She had been in critical condition apparently, not that anyone told him much. They always spoke to Graham and the Sheriff always looked so guilty then tried to put a brave face on for Henry. It didn’t really work. Henry might not have Emma’s gift for being a human lie detector but he knew enough to know when someone was blowing smoke.

He’d been allowed to look at her through the glass of the intensive care unit last night before Emma had taken him home to try to get him to sleep.

They’d tried to distract him with school but he’d been so out of it that Miss Blanchard had kept him back afterwards. She’d heard about what had happened of course. Everyone had. She’d asked if there was anything she could do and Henry had leapt on it. He’d begged her to bring him to the hospital, she was going to go and visit Prince Charming anyway, right? He could come along, just in case his mom woke up, then he’d leave with Miss Blanchard when she was finished reading to her husband. He’d be as good as gold. He wouldn’t be any problem. He’d behave. He’d promised and promised and promised he’d behave if only they’d let him see his mom.

Graham had told Henry that morning that she’d been moved out of intensive care and into a room in a regular ward. She’d woken up once or twice but had been pretty out of it.

Henry had heard the nurses talking. One of the times she had woken up screaming. She had screamed and screamed and only Graham had been able to calm her down enough for them to sedate her.

And Henry, where was he?

He was stuck outside. Looking in.

Henry sat in one of the cheap plastic seats in the hallway outside her room, his feet drumming on the floor, his hands clenched on his lap. He looked strung out. The nurses kept staring at him, coming over, offering juice. He thanked them and accepted because that was polite, but even taking a mouthful of it made him feel sick to his stomach.

He kept throwing up. His stomach wouldn’t stay still.

He had done this. He had wished it on her. He’d said he’d hated her, that she was the Evil Queen, that she’d soon be defeated. Henry wanted the curse to break, he wanted it almost as much as he wanted his mom to wake up, but not at this cost.

What if that was what it meant?

What if the Evil Queen did have to die for the curse to break?

Had Henry done that? Had bringing Emma here weakened the curse just enough so that people remembered? So that someone might remember enough to try and take revenge.

“Jesus, Henry, what are you doing here?!”

Henry’s head snapped up when Graham rounded the bend and called to him. Graham hurried over and crouched down in front of him.

He was clean today of blood and gore. He had gone home to change at some point, his clothes clean if not as neatly pressed as they usually were, his beard looked a little scruffier and his eyes were darkened with lack of sleep but he still looked better than Henry did.

“You look awful.”

“Thanks.” Henry managed a smile that was more of a grimace.

“Did Emma bring you here?” Graham sounded angry. He’d been angry since the attack.

Good. Henry wanted him angry. He wanted Graham as angry as he felt and he hoped he beat up the guy that had attacked his mom. He hoped he beat him with a stick and tasered him and kicked him until his leg got tired. Then he wanted Graham to switch to his other leg and keep going.

“No. Miss Blanchard did.” Henry shook his head. He was mad at Emma too but she and Graham had to work together to catch this new villain that had attacked his mom.

“She left you alone? Here?” Graham’s jaw clenched. “No one’s let you in?”

Henry shook his head and Graham twisted to glare over at the nurses.

They looked hurriedly away from him, sensing a pissed of Sheriff would be giving them a stern talking to later.

“No. Can I? Can I go in now?”

“Aye, ‘course you can.” Graham stood and settled a steadying hand on Henry’s shoulders when he wobbled a little. “You’re going to go and guard your mom and I’m going to go and get you something to eat. You’re going to eat it and you’re going to keep it down, okay?”

“Sure.” Henry would have agreed to anything right then, all he could focus on was getting closer to the door which his mom was on the other side of.

“Henry,” Graham stopped with his hand on the door handle and waited until Henry looked up at him, “this is not your fault.”

Henry stared up at him for a long moment, as if it took time to focus on him.

“Can I see her now?”

“Yeah, come on.” Graham gave up on that for now and ushered Henry into the room.

Henry bolted towards the bed and stopped at the foot of it, gripping the frame so tightly his knuckles whitened. His skinny chest heaved as he drank in every detail of her.

Regina reclined at a raised angle on the bed and she looked so tiny. She looked like she was made of porcelain. Her skin was a marble pallor, her eyes smudged with dark, still bruised on one side from the first attack. There was a tube strung across her face and under her nose, but not one down her throat so at least she was breathing okay. There was sticky tabs on her chest to measure her heartbeat and a huge needle taped into the back of her hand. Her other hand was in a cast nearly to the elbow. Bags of stuff hung on poles by the bed, dripping into her.

Henry knew his mom was small. He was ten and he almost reached her shoulder, but she seemed to cast a fifty foot shadow. She was much bigger on the inside. Much fiercer than anyone that small had a right to be. Today she looked small.

“See?” Graham took Henry’s shoulders and drew him a little of a way away from the bed, he picked up the chart hooked there and pointed at a string of numbers.

“That’s her heart, it’s getting better, it’s getting stronger. Her blood pressure is normalising,” Graham pointed to another string of numbers and then down to the comments at the bottom, “and it says here that her stitches are good and there’s no sign of infection.”

It said a lot of other stuff that Henry didn’t understand. Fracturing of the ribs, dislocation of the glenohumeral joint, fractures of the hamate and triquetrum, piercing of the pericardium and contusions to the wall of the left ventricle and the caudal vena cava. He would Google it later and know that it meant she had been grabbed so hard her wrist had broken, thrown to the ground with enough force to wrench her shoulder from its socket, stabbed so hard her bones had broken and it was a miracle that the knife had just nicked her heart rather than piercing it.

“So, you’re going to sit here, and I’m going for food.” Graham toted him over to the chair by the bed and pushed him down into it. “What do you want?”

Henry shrugged.

“Henry…Henry,” Graham had to ask again to get the boy to look at him, “I’ll fetch you food. What do you want?”

Henry stared at him for a long moment.

“Something from Granny’s?” The longer Graham was gone, the longer Henry got to stay with Regina.

Graham smirked. He knew exactly what the boy was thinking. He had known him his whole life after all.

“I’m not going to take you away from her. Obviously trying to distract you with school was a mistake. You can stay right here until she wakes up.”

Henry sagged suddenly back into the chair, a long sigh leaking from him. His eyes closed and his lower lip trembled a moment before he got himself under control. Just like his mum. Not as practiced, sure, but so damn proud and never wanting to show weakness.

“So, food?”

“Whatever. I don’t care.” Henry opened his eyes and they widened when his stomach gave a sudden yowl. “Maybe a lot of it though.”

Graham smirked and nodded.

Maybe he would go to Granny’s.

“Alright, hang in there. Keep an eye on her. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Graham reached out and squeezed Henry’s shoulder.

Then he left Henry alone with his mother.

 

_**Granny’s...** _

 

Graham braced himself for the overwhelming scent of people and food and then pushed into the diner. The bell jangled overhead, heads turned and silence fell.

Graham huffed out a breath.

He ignored everyone and headed straight for the counter.

“Hey.” Ruby wasn’t her usual overly friendly self when she approached to take his order. She stood and waited for him to respond, not babbling on about this, that and the next thing.

“Hi.” Graham shrugged out of the brown leather Sheriff’s jacket and slung it over a stool.

Graham reeled off the order and Ruby jotted it down hurriedly before spinning away to take it to the kitchen.

Right into the kitchen.

Graham huffed out a breath and pointedly ignored everyone. No one was quite brave enough to broach the subject of the Mayor’s health and that suited him just fine.

Granny appeared seconds later and rounded the bar to stand right next to him. She waited with the patience of a continent until he turned to face her and, when she wrapped scarred arms around him, he even allowed himself to lean into it for a moment.

“She’ll be fine, lad.” Granny held him at arm’s length. “We both know she’s too damn ornery to let some paltry mugger keep her down.”

Graham grimaced a smile and nodded.

“I’m sure she’d appreciate that, coming from you.” The lie felt thick and heavy on his tongue but he told it anyway.

Granny and Ruby were two of the few people he could stand for prolonged periods of time. He even allowed them to touch him. Not often and not for long, but it didn’t make his skin feel like it was two sizes too small. Must be the wolf in them.

“The hell she would.” Granny gave a lopsided smile but she appreciated the sentiment. “How you keeping?”

“Tired.” Graham lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“The boy?”

“Worse. This is lunch for him.”

“Ye shouldn’t have sent him to school.”

“We thought it would distract him.”

“You and Emma? With the parenting skills of a buzzard between ye? I’ll bet that’ll go down a treat when her ladyship comes round.”

“So long as she’s alive to yell at me, that’s fine.”

That miasma of emotions that he didn’t want to list beat at him again and it was only Granny’s steadying hand on his arm that stopped him from howling in an attempt to get it out.

“She’ll be alright. You need a hand with anything, you know who to ask.” Granny gave him a warning look to not take her up on it at his peril.

He was actually incredibly glad that she’d offered to help. He knew they all would but Granny was one of the few people he actually trusted to genuinely mean it. She might not like Regina –at all- but Granny was a roll-the-sleeves-back-and-get-stuck-in type. She’d do what she had to do. She’d do what she felt was right.

The moment between them was broken when the doorbell jangled again and Leroy stomped his way in.

One of the dwarves, Grumpy if Regina’s intelligence reports back in the Enchanted Forest or Henry’s book were to be believed.

“Hey, Sheriff, she dead yet?”

Graham reacted entirely without thought. Something screamed in him and he just moved without meaning to.

His badge plinked across the bar when he tore it from his waistcoat and tossed it away. Granny’s hand gripping his sleeve didn’t even register. The widening of Grumpy’s eyes told him that his expression must have made it clear how he felt about the dwarf right then.

Graham threw him out the door. Clean out the door.

He didn’t even open it first.

Glass exploded everywhere, Ruby shrieked from behind the bar, a chorus of gasps rang out and Graham snarled low and intent. His boots crunched into glass shards when he stepped out of the doorframe where a glass window had been a second before and he stood on the porch of the diner, glaring down at Grumpy.

He had thrown him out the window in the door, over the porch and bypassed the steps completely to land in a crumpled heap on the path leading to the sidewalk.

The dwarf was winded, his pride had taken a beating, but he was otherwise unharmed. He coughed and wheezed, trying to remember how to breathe with rhythm again. He stared up at Graham like he had never seen him before…or like he remembered seeing the Sheriff like that once upon a time…

“Get out of here before I arrest your sorry arse.” Graham growled.

“For what?” Grumpy wheezed.

“Anything I want.” Graham’s voice was as sharp as the glass beneath his boots and Grumpy took the hint, scrambling away and limping off down the street.

Graham’s chest heaved and he staggered when something burst in it.

His hand went to his sternum and he blinked hard, his eyes watering with the feeling. Something powerful and warm and all consuming. Incredibly, Graham smiled.

Regina was awake.

He didn’t know how he knew, he just did.

Graham turned back to the diner and stepped through the broken door again. His eyes landed on Granny first, her brows raised her mouth half open in shock.

“I’ll pay for the door.”

“Damn right you will.” Granny recovered herself quickly.

“Is that order ready?” Graham moved back to the bar, pinning his badge back on, picking up his jacket and slinging it on.

“Here.” Ruby spoke weakly, holding out a paper bag that smelled delicious and a cup holder with two huge cups in it.

“Thanks.” Graham dug into his pocket for some cash and stopped when Granny just shoved the bag into his hand, stuffed the cupholder into the other and herded him towards the door.

“Just get. Get before my charitable feelings disappear.” She pointlessly opened the shattered door and pushed him out onto the steps.

“I really will pay for it.” Graham turned back to her.

“I know, but I’m pretty mad at ye just now so you better get before I throw you out.”

Graham nodded, smiling again, and then hurried down the steps and back towards the squad car.

He was so happy because of the alien feeling in his chest that he was halfway towards the hospital before he thought to question it.

 

_**The Hospital...** _

 

Regina awoke like a swimmer from the deep.

She seemed to come from so far down in the black. Struggling up through the molasses of drugs and into the waking world. She was fairly out of it, she knew that much. She felt like she’d downed a half of her cider on an empty stomach. Her eyelids seemed to be as heavy as garage doors and it took her several moments of bleary fluttering to finally get them to cooperate. Even then her vision was out of focus for long blinking seconds until she finally managed to get one thing to resolve into a sharpened image.

Henry.

Regina’s tortured body felt better than even morphine could hope to make it for one blinding instant. That way she felt every time she saw him. Before she thought about how much he hated her, or the lies she’d told him or the damage she’d done to everyone that he’d never forgive her for. Before she remembered that she’d lost him months ago.

Henry practically flew out of the seat he was hunched in and bounded into the side of the bed, gripping the metal frame that prevented her from falling out until his hands were lurid white with pressure.

“Mom.” His voice was hoarse, his eyes wide and wet and she frowned at that.

He looked awful, her little boy, what had they been doing to him?

“Hen…” Regina wheezed the first time and he hurried to pick up a cup of water with a straw in it for her. She drank carefully, her tongue feeling like fur covered lead, and tried again with a weary smile. “Henry.”

“Mom, you’re awake.” Henry beamed at her, clutching the cup of water in trembling hands.

He sniffed suddenly, his chin quivering, and blinked a lot.

“Oh, baby.” Regina tried to lean towards him and blanched when pain sliced into her middle even through the haze of drugs. She sat back real quick but managed to lift her arms. “Come here.”

Henry hesitated a moment, but only a moment, before looking down at the gate on the side of the bed. He couldn’t immediately see how to lower it so he stood on the chair again and used it as a step to clamber over.

He was incredibly careful, moving around her like she was made of glass, and tucked himself into the narrow space afforded for him at her side. He curled beside her, his head resting on her upper arm and it wasn’t until she lifted her other arm to comb his hair back out of his tearful eyes that she noticed it was in a cast.

“Oh.” Regina blinked at the white plaster encasing her hand from knuckle to almost her elbow. Ah, that was right, Graham had broken her wrist when he had thrown her. Her shoulder ached too much to hold her arm up and she carefully rested it against her stomach, moving it hurriedly when the wound in her middle screamed through the morphine again. Regina absently curled her good arm around Henry’s head and tangled those fingers in his hair instead. She turned her head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Honey, you look awful.”

Henry choked a laugh, snuggling as close as he dared to her.

“I’m so sorry.” He spoke on a rush, the words jumbling from him so fast it took her a moment to translate.

“Sorry for what?” Regina frowned, her drugged brain not up to much right then.

“For making this happen.” Henry’s voice cracked.

“What?” Regina croaked, her own throat not up to matching the incredulity she felt.

“I wished it on you. You were right, every time I…”

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” Regina hugged him as close as she could. “No. A bad man did this to me. Not you. This could never be your fault. You hear me? It was absolutely not your fault.”

“But…”

“I mean it, Henry. No.” Regina’s voice became firmer when she had to rise to the challenge to comfort him. “Alright?”

He was quiet for long moments.

“Alright?” She jostled him a little.

“Alright.” He whispered.

“Good.” Regina sagged back into the pillows, suddenly exhausted.

She stared up at the ceiling. Everything was hazy and she felt absolutely shit face wasted. Morphine was good stuff.

“You need anything?” Henry kept his voice low.

“Just for you to stay there.” Regina murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. Her fingers still steadily combing his hair let him know she hadn’t succumbed to sleep again. “Stay right there, baby boy.”

“I’m not a baby.” She huffed a breath in the shape of a chuckle.

“You’ll always be my baby.”

Henry would have bristled at that just two days previous but now it was a whole ‘nuther ball game. Someone had tried to kill his mom. He hadn’t realised until the moment he’d found out how much he didn’t want to lose her. She was his mom. Yeah, she might be the Evil Queen too, but she was still his mom and he absolutely did NOT want her dead.

“Are you really going to be okay?” His voice sounded far smaller than he’d have liked.

“I would never leave you.” Regina gave him a brief squeeze by way of comfort but he could tell the effort cost her.

Henry ached that he couldn’t hold her back. That she was too hurt to even get a hug. So he wriggled as close as he dared, rested his head against her cheek, and tumbled readily into sleep.

 

**_Later…_ **

 

Graham ambled through the corridors of the hospital, winding his way to Regina’s room, deep in thought.

What the hell had that been? That warm and fuzzy feeling?

Graham didn’t think he’d EVER felt like that, even back when he’d had his whole heart and before he’d ever met Regina.

It had been such a bursting swell of emotion. It had broken over him like a wave. All-encompassing and completely immersive. For a moment, just a second, everything had seemed right and he’d forgotten everything else. It was a sanctuary in the terrible world he had found himself in.

Then it had been gone.

Graham had puzzled it out on the way over, caught between mulling it over and wanting to hurry back, because he knew Regina was awake. In his blood and his bones he knew she was awake.

Which came with that horrible grab-bag of emotions on its heels. He felt half crazed just at the prospect of seeing her again. She might have attempted to return his heart to him, but she held the cards now. A few choice words from her, an accusation there, a little hint for where to look for evidence, to have a good look at that knife that had so well ventilated her midsection…she’d land him in jail and come across as the saintly survivor.

On the other hand, he was glad she was alive. He’d known her for most of his life, been tangled with her for just as long. Foolishly, stupidly, darkly, perhaps, but they were joined all the same. She was a fixture now, a part of him and he of her…was he ready to cut that out of him?

Or was this all just crazy? Had she completely broken him after all those years and he really didn’t know the difference between right and wrong? Was he so completely her pet that she had convinced him that her pleasure was worth anything –any degradation, any pain, any horror- on his part? Was he better off just pulling himself up by his bootstraps, marching into that hospital room and finishing what he had started?

Graham arrived at Regina’s room before he reached any kind of conclusion to any of his queries.

Well, he might not know what to do about Regina, but he did know what to do about the hungry little boy he’d left by her side.

Graham pushed open the door with one shoulder and swung his way into the private room. He twitched in surprise when he saw Henry absent from the chair he had left him in. It was quickly quelled by locating him in the bed tucked into his mother’s side. Graham’s eyes hungrily drank in every detail of the scene and all the air rushed out of his lungs when he tracked his gaze up to her face and found her eyes open, staring back into his.

He stood there, like that, frozen in the doorway, for what felt like hours.

Regina blinked languidly at him, her fingers combing idly through Henry’s hair as he slept. Graham finally sucked in a breath and pushed his way entirely into the room. He stood there, in the middle of the room, drinks in one hand, food in the other, and watched her watch him.

He felt _everything_.

Another flashfire of emotion so powerful it nearly knocked him off his feet. Something hot and lurid purple burst in his head, followed by a streak of pallid yellow fear veined with pulsing green terror.

It was her. It was coming from Regina. Graham could only stare at her. That cool, impassive mask never changed. He could see and hear the kick her heart gave at the sight of him and he could _feel_ that she felt something –felt a lot- for him…and not all of it hatred.

It was violent and powerful, this feeling in his chest roiling like a snake in a bag, but it wasn’t hate. There was fear, but not really of him or what he had done. Pain, a lot of pain, not all of it physical but –underneath all that, deep, deep, down- was a small kernel of peace. Right down in the foundations of her, a little piece of calm that kept her functioning. Up until recently it had been Henry, but there was new scar tissue there, the boy had torn himself from deep within her by setting off on his quest.

She was feeling better though, better than she had in such a long time and it was because…because of Graham.

Graham blinked when he realised what sacrificing half his heart had gained him. He could feel what she felt. See past the façade, see the truth of her, she’d never be able to lie to him again.

Which was exactly why he would never tell her.

Regina knew nothing about half his heart being in her chest. She knew nothing of what he had done to save her life. As far as she was concerned, he was healthy and whole again. He had managed to resuscitate her and dragged her to the hospital where Whale had saved her life. That was what she believed had happened…and she would continue to believe it if Graham had anything to say about it.

He was staring at her and it was beginning to make her nervous.

“It’s good to see you awake.” Graham dredged the words from somewhere.

Regina tilted her head and had the energy for a sardonic arch of an eyebrow.

Graham deliberately looked at Henry and she gave a subtle nod.

As always, she could at least be trusted to do what she believed was best for Henry.

“It’s good to be awake.”

“We’ll have to talk.” Graham carefully approached her and circled around to set the food down on the raised table that spanned the bed.

“Now?”

“Later is fine…but it will need to be soon. Questions are being asked.” Most stridently by Emma who wouldn’t buy the whole phantom attacker unless Regina and Graham had their story straight.

Luckily for them all, it had rained that night. Torrential Maine weather pouring over the town and washing away any evidence that could be found outside. Not that there was any, but now it didn’t have to be fabricated.

So that just left the blood in Graham’s house. Splashed liberally over his bedroom floor, dripped and pattered along the hallway and spattered over the front steps and the interior of his truck.

Emma had studied all of it and Graham had been glad to see that she had very little idea as to what she was actually looking at. She didn’t seem to notice that the blood only seemed to lead one way. Surely it would have spatter going in both directions if Regina had staggered into Graham’s bedroom for aid? There was no other way it could have happened, after all. Regina must have dragged herself all the way into his bedroom because that was the only way all that blood could have gotten in there.

Of course, Graham had panicked a little, which was why there was so much blood pooled there. Then he had been overcome with gallantry and scooped up the little Mayor, toting her out to his truck and driving bravely to the hospital with her.

Graham’s stomach twisted at the thought but he shoved that down. Of course, there was the question as to why Regina hadn’t just hammered on the door? How had she even gotten in? There was no sign of forced entry, not that a woman in danger of rapidly bleeding out would have been able to force the door. Even if she hadn’t been a mere five-four and petite with it.

Simple. She had a key. She knew Graham was a heavy sleeper and he often didn’t hear her when she knocked…it had become habit to invite herself in.

Which was utter bollocks, of course.

Regina hadn’t come to _him_. He’d been at her beck and call and that had ever been the case. Of course, for the last twenty eight years, he’d liked it that way.

“I’ll bet.” Regina’s rasping voice brought his attention back to her and he automatically moved to take the cup of water and the straw from the bedside table.

He tended to her, letting her drink and then setting it aside. He had completed the action without thought just as she had accepted it without the paranoia of poisoning that had accompanied her every other morsel back in the Enchanted Forest. Graham wondered if she even realised that she trusted him so completely.

“Don’t think about it right now. When you can breathe without the aid of drugs to dull the crippling pain, then we can revisit that night. Until then…I’ll keep it at bay.” Graham watched her face. Watched the way her impassive almost contemptuous expression belied the feelings he could feel seeping from her heart into his.

She liked that he wanted to protect her.

Graham found himself smiling and she frowned at him, confused. He felt a frisson of fear go through her, convinced that he was about to do something heinous to her. Annoyance hot on its heels when her thrumming panic was translated into a staccato bleeping from the machines she was hooked up to.

“Do you think you can eat?”

Regina brightened a little.

“What did you bring?”

“Chili cheeseburgers, fries, coleslaw…” Graham dug through the bags, laying the takeout boxes onto the table. “Milkshake, coffee…there’s some green stuff that they always use to make the meal look bigger…”

“Salad garnish, dear.” Regina absently corrected him, measuring the gratification of the greasy meal over the probably likelihood that she wouldn’t be able to keep such rich food down.

Then again, the last time she’d been on this many drugs, it had been laudanum. Morphine’s older and much less refined cousin. She might be able to eat a little without immediately seeing it again.

“I can go and find some toast if you’d prefer.” Graham offered after a minute.

“I’m fine. You eat first.” Regina dismissed it and turned her attention back to Henry. “Sweetheart? Wake up, Graham has brought you lunch.”

Henry grumbled and snuggled closer for a moment. When Regina smiled at the movement, her expression –for once- completely matched the blast of feeling that rocketed through her.

“Come on, chili cheeseburger, your favourite.” Henry blearily opened one eye.

“No pickles?”

“I would never dare.” Graham said solemnly and wheeled the table up the bed, closer to the boy.

Henry sat up slowly, as if he’d been in the same position for years. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared sightlessly at the food for a moment. Regina rested her good hand against his back, rubbing small circles there, and gentled him back into the real world.

Her poor little boy. She’d put him through the wringer with this stunt of hers.

She had known better, known that Graham would kill her the first opportunity he got. That he’d bottled it at the last instant was something she hadn’t foreseen. Neither had she seen how harshly it would have affected Henry. Looking at him now, it became nearly impossible to believe that she had ever thought he didn’t care at all for her. How could she have missed it so completely? He loved her still…and she had nearly ripped that away from him.

She had always been cruel and selfish, always, but she had promised herself that she would never be that way with Henry.

Another promise broken. Was she even surprised anymore?

Henry twisted to look down at her and she found a smile from somewhere for him.

“How you feeling?”

“Better.” Lies. “Eat something, sweetheart.”

“You want some?” Henry folded his legs neatly and pulled his Styrofoam carton closer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Go ahead.” She managed another smile and tried to sit up straighter, wincing when pain ravaged her.

“Here.” Graham was suddenly there, leaning closer and sliding his arms around her waist gently.

Regina wound her arms about his neck after a moment of hesitation and Graham scooted her higher up the bed to make room for Henry. When Graham released her, both of them a little uncomfortable with the familiarity that shouldn’t be there anymore, Regina cast a glance over at Henry and stilled when she found him watching them both carefully.

Henry munched a few French fries, watching with an unblinking stare and Regina cleared her throat. Considering what to say.

“I’m cool with it.”

Regina blinked at the boy.

“You and Graham.” Henry shrugged. “You never needed to hide it from me. I’m not jealous or anything.”

Regina pressed her lips together and hummed in the back of her throat.

“Good.” Graham flopped down onto the chair and dug into his own sack of lunch. The curse might be –well- a curse, but chili cheeseburgers from Granny’s were very nearly worth it. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really?” Regina arched a brow at him, her tone dangerous.

“Really.” Graham nodded, his mouth full of burger. “Someone is going to have to look after you. Unless you want Henry taking time off school?”

Regina’s jaw clenched.

“I don’t need help.”

“Aye, just you wait until you try to get dressed without tearing your stitches. Then we’ll see who’s so independent.” Graham snorted and sipped his coffee.

Regina opened her mouth to tell him where to get off but Henry silenced her with a pleading look.

“Mom, please?”

“Henry…”

“Will you please let someone help you? Just this once? I’m not big enough to do it myself.” He wrinkled his nose. “Besides, I don’t think you want me dressing you.”

Regina’s mouth twitched, fighting down a smile despite herself.

“I’d pick horrible clothes.” Henry assured her.

Regina heaved a sigh and winced when her wound tugged. She tapped the clicker with her finger and the morphine drip gave a little hiss as a dose was administered.

“I still don’t like it.”

Graham? Help her?She knew the Sheriff wanted to do nothing of the kind. He wanted her where he could keep an eye on her.

Now that he was whole again and had his will, now that he knew about the curse, she was certain he was going to throw his lot in with the Charmings and do everything he could do bring about her downfall. She didn’t know if he would reveal to Henry that he knew that the curse was real, but she was certain he was going to help the boy with his plot to break it.

Fantastic.

She had already proved she couldn’t kill him. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to help him without nearly getting killed herself. She felt like she’d been sawn in half and, besides, he was bigger, stronger and faster than she…she was losing. She was losing and there was nothing that she could do about it.

Still, there is a difference between choosing to surrender and being conquered.

Right then, it was a difference that Regina clung to.

“Alright, you can help me.”

“My eternal gratitude.” Graham gave a mocking half bow in his seat and then went back to shovelling food in his mouth. It was the first proper meal he’d had in days. “I’ll pack some things and move them over to your house this afternoon.”

“You’ll what?” Regina’s voice would have given polar bears chills.

“Graham would have to stay with us.” Henry licked at a blob of sauce in the corner of his mouth. “What if he had to get you a glass of water or something in the night? Or you fell over? You’re tiny for a grown up but I’m still not big enough to lift you.” Henry’s tone was admonishing.

“I am _not_ tiny.”

“Practically pocket sized, darlin’.” Graham smirked and drank his coffee. “I could lift you with one arm. You are a little half pint of Mayor, you are.”

Regina sank deeper into the bed, half in defeat and half in sulk, and glared sluggishly at him. Wow, that morphine was fast acting.

Graham watched her succumb to it and noticed that it was becoming easier to put the brave face on for Henry now that he was more certain that Regina was actually going to survive his attempt at murdering her.

This was hellish, from every angle it was an awful situation, but there was no reason not to enjoy this kind of suffering from her. She’d be under his control. Reliant on him. It would be nice to have the tables turned on her and even better to have her where he could keep an eye on her.

Graham had no idea how much power she actually had over the town, though it certainly no longer extended over the Sheriff’s department, but in the coming days and weeks, he was going to make it his mission to find out.

Oh yes, Regina Mills was stuck with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – So It Begins

Then, Year 5 of the Curse

Regina had first realised he was different when he had noticed. 

He had noticed that she’d left. 

The curse had been torment. Day in, day out, year after year the same. She had been crazed to begin with and then she’d been locked into a never ending loop of banality with the faces of the people she had thought to subjugate turned her tormentors. 

So she’d left. 

Packed her things into her car, filled the tank with gas, gathered her documentation, got behind the wheel and started to drive. It hadn’t really mattered where. Away was what she had been going for and it had been wonderful. 

To start with. 

It had started slowly. A shortness of breath when she least expected it. Dizzy spells harsh enough to knock her on her ass in the middle of a crowded store. Then the pain had begun. 

She’d been gone barely a week before she’d realised it was going to kill her. 

Withdrawal, she had realised as she’d driven erratically back towards what was now destined to be her home for the rest of her days. She might not have command over the magic in Storybrooke, but it seemed to have a tight grip on her. Tight enough for her to physically need it.

She supposed it made sense. Before casting the curse, Regina had been steeped in magic. Now that she had been magically frozen in a state of biological ennui, she had to be made of more magic than she was blood and bone. That and the curse needed her to function. It would only make sense that –as a curse- it would make her suffer for abandoning it.

The black Mercedes roared past the green sign welcoming her back to her prison so fast that it wobbled in the backdraft. She was barely in control of it behind the wheel, careening down the twisting road, into the valley, into the town. 

She’d had no clear idea of where she was going until her car mounted the kerb outside the diner. Granny’s. 

Regina literally fell out the door, landing hard with a groan of pain.

Eat something. She had to eat something. 

She had to eat something from Storybrooke. The food was replenished magically. Generated by the curse, probably what kept everybody else in the constant stupor of looping memories they were snared in. If she ate the food, it would get the magic back into her system that much faster.

Regina forced her legs under her, she’d survived agony before, she’d do it again. She had to use the white picket fence outside the diner to haul herself upright but she did it.

Unfortunately for her, she had no idea how to get from the fence to the diner itself without damn well crawling. 

“Regina!” 

Regina blearily turned, seeing a fuzzy shape advancing on her in a symphony of brown. 

It was the smell that alerted her to his identity. 

Earth and coffee and pine and syrup. 

Graham. 

“God, love, what happened to you?!” His arms came around her and he scooped her up off the ground with an ease that would have been alarming had it not been exactly what she needed. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No!” She found the strength to speak from somewhere. “Food. I need…to eat. Now.” Regina could barely see straight, she clutched at his jacket and tried feebly to tug him towards the diner. 

“Food?” Graham hesitated. 

“I need…please.”

“Alright, hold on.” Graham spun on his heel and carried her up into the diner. He kicked open the door with one foot and started to bark orders like the captain of the guard he had once been. 

“Granny, I need juice or soda and a pastry, pie, anything that’s sugary. NOW!”

Regina was blearily aware of people rushing around her, sent to scurrying by the sheriff’s apparently non-existent temper flaring to life. She was in and out until his hand took hers, pushing a glass of something into her grip and helping her lift it to her mouth when she shook too hard. 

Regina gulped it down. It was orange soda, she hated orange, but she drank it like water after a trek across the desert. She drank until she had to breathe or drown in it and then flopped back against Graham’s chest, gasping for breath. 

“Here, eat this.” Graham practically shoved the doughnut into her mouth and Regina fell on it like she hadn’t eaten in months. 

The relief was almost immediate. She felt the stomach cramps lessen, her vision ceased to blur and the tremors died away to almost nothing. 

It was only then she noticed her audience. 

She had apparently arrived back in the diner in time for the lunch rush and everyone –everyone- had eyes only for her. 

Regina was intensely aware of how she looked, rumpled, dishevelled and now covered in sugar. She was also sitting on the Sheriff’s lap. 

“Bugger off, the lot of ye.” Graham all but snarled and she blinked at the tone. 

Everyone else did a hell of a lot more than blink. As one, they found places elsewhere to be and other things to stare at. As soon as they had a modicum of privacy, Graham’s hand spanned the back of her neck and he turned her to face him. 

“Where the hell have you been?!”

“What?” Regina stared at him. 

“You’ve been gone for days! I was about to send out bloody search parties. Where did you GO?!”

“I…” Regina was caught completely unawares by his tone. It had been decades since anyone had dared speak to her in such a way and from her Huntsman of all people?   
Regina grunted in surprise when his arms engulfed her and he clutched her close to his chest. 

“I was so bloody worried.” He spoke into her hair. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

“You have no right to…” Regina shoved at his chest. Trying to put some distance between them. Put him in his place.

“I have every right.” He all but snarled and she actually gaped at him. He was so biddable here. Never fought her on anything. More of a pet than he had ever been. What the hell was this?

“I’m the sodding Sheriff. I am responsible for the safety of everyone in this town including stubborn little Mayors that can’t be arsed to leave a sodding NOTE to tell their lover where they’re fucking going!”

“Don’t you swear at me.” She hissed. “I am beholden to you in no way at all.” 

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.” Graham growled at her but his arm was still tight about her waist. She was pointedly not noticing that she had yet to pull away from him. “A week, Regina. A week without sight of hide nor hair of you. I went to your house. You’d taken all your clothes. Were you really going to leave without a word?” 

“I…you noticed?” 

“What?” Graham stared down at her like she was the one not making sense. “Of course I noticed! Even had I not woken up to you being gone one morning, you’re kind of a public figure.”

“But no one else noticed.” Regina murmured. 

“Well, you know them, they only notice when things start to go poorly. Then they can blame you for it.” 

Regina blinked. That had been dangerously close to a personality there.

“You noticed me…”

“I notice you every day. Even when you’re not around.” Graham huffed a sigh and muttered the next. “Especially then.”

Regina felt a pang in her chest and pressed a hand to her heart, wincing at the pressure. He saw her pain and reacted, wrapping her in his arms and tugging her close.   
Regina…let him. 

Despite the audience, despite the public setting and the stares, despite how she was supposed to be strong, unbeatable, untouchable…she let him hold her. She let him hold her and she tilted into his chest and rested her head on his shoulder and buried her face in his neck. Slowly, treacherously, her arms crept around him and she held him back. 

“You remembered me.” 

He chuckled, resting his chin on top of her head. 

“Love, you are unforgettable.” 

Regina smiled and let herself pretend –what was the point in all this if she couldn’t do at least that after all? She rested in his arms and let herself pretend that he was truly hers. That he really did care. That he was actually happy to see her and that he was on her side. 

Just for now, just for today, she would pretend. 

By the next day –for him at least- it was as if none of it had happened. 

She remembered. 

 

Now, the Hospital… 

 

It wasn’t even a week later that Regina was discharged from the hospital.

Whale was stunned at how quickly she had healed. Regina hadn’t been. 

The curse might be faltering, breaking, but there was still enough of it left to reset its caster back to her original settings. The same spell that had kept them all frozen at the same age was at work when it came to healing the hole in her midriff. She was by no means ready to go running any marathons any time soon, but she had been weaned off the morphine and onto something lighter. Of course, any thoughts on how quick her recovery had been were put into perspective when she tried to dress herself. 

Quick recovery or not, it had still been only five days since she’d had a hunting knife investigating her thoracic cavity.

Graham had brought her clothes twenty minutes ago and all she had managed was her underwear. She had point blank refused to even attempt to bend over and put on her stockings as reaching back to clasp her bra shut had nearly knocked her out cold. 

As it was, she was grey and trembling but stubbornly refused to give up. She was going home. Today. She’d had more than enough of being put on display for the masses and if she had to dodge one more visit from Sidney, she was going to bite someone to death. 

She very nearly whimpered in relief when she found that Graham had brought her a dress that she could simply pull on with a minimum of wiggling.

That relief was short lived when she realised it wasn’t her dress. She had never seen it before. It was her style, a pencil skirt that would hug everything, the bodice resembling a waistcoat with a button down front and a dramatic collar that would span her from shoulder to shoulder…but it was blue.

A deep jewel blue with a silver frost-like pattern that made it shimmer. Far more eye catching than she would usually wear. Purple ribbon edged the collar and the slanted hem of the skirt.

Closer examination revealed that there was no tag, it had been hand stitched –in fact- it had been handmade. 

Regina was delighted and suspicious all at the same time. However, further rummaging in the bag Graham had brought her revealed nothing but pantsuits and skirt and shirt ensembles that she deemed far too much effort. So she unbuttoned the bodice, torturously dragged it on over her legs and found the mystery dress to fit her with a surprisingly flattering ease. She hadn’t had something this well-tailored since the Enchanted Forest and that had been achieved through magic. 

Regina mustered a set of black high heels, which were familiar to her, and a black blazer but put neither on as they required a level of movement that she hadn’t steeled herself for yet. She tortured herself into packing everything away into the bag and then just sat and tried not to topple over with exhaustion. 

She was almost regretting chasing the nurse out of the room –insisting she didn’t need help- when a brief knock heralded her next trial of the day. 

“You decent?” 

Graham didn’t wait for an answer and Regina swallowed her vicious retort when she saw the reason for his banter. 

Miss Swan. 

Regina wanted very much to groan. 

“Mom!” Henry brightened her mood when he pushed past Emma and hurled himself up onto the bed beside Regina. “You ready to come home?” 

“More than.” Regina lifted her arm, ignoring the bite of pain to her sternum, and smoothed his hair back. Taking that as permission, Henry favoured her with a gentle hug. 

Her little man had taken to treating her like she was made of glass and she found it almost as adorable as she did infuriating. She was not supposed to be breakable in his eyes. She was supposed to be strong, someone he could lean on, not someone who would have to lean on him just to get into the car.

“Graham’s gonna drive us home.” Henry smiled. 

“Ah. How delightful.” Regina rubbed his shoulders and looked over at Miss Swan, who looked about as welcome as a bastard at a family reunion. She rubbed at her arm and offered some kind of grimace that might have been mistaken for a smile. 

“Emma’s here for some follow up questions.” Graham answered the unspoken query. He approached the bed and Regina tried to calm the twisting her stomach gave. He smirked at her as if aware of the storm of emotion swirling through her. 

Her heart felt like lead in her chest.

“More questions?” Regina folded one leg over the other when he went to one knee and picked up one of her heels. 

“Aye. Questions that are better left between women, apparently.” Graham glanced up at her, his hands gentle on her ankle and calf to switch her legs over so he could slip the other heel on for her. 

Regina’s chin kicked up and she looked at Emma –who looked as uncomfortable as she felt- with dawning comprehension. Well, she supposed it was standard procedure.

“Henry, why don’t you help Graham take my things to the car? Miss Swan should be done by the time you get back.”

“Aye, Henry, your mom’s bags are heavy.” Graham’s hand rested briefly on Regina’s knee as he stood, Regina felt a thrill go through her when his fingers glanced just under the hem of her skirt and she looked sharply away from him when his eyes found hers. 

She should be over this. More than over it. He had tried to kill her, very nearly succeeded in fact. Not only that, she was recovering from his attempted murder and should not be entertaining the prospect of how soon she was recovered enough for all the ideas that his fingers at her hemline generated.

Graham briefly squeezed her knee and rose to his full height, scooping her toiletries bag up and passing it to Henry. 

“You take the heavy one.” He told the boy and hefted Regina’s holdall with casual strength. 

Henry clutched his burden to his chest and hopped down off the bed. He smiled back at Regina, told her he’d be right back and followed Graham out of the room. 

Leaving Regina with just Miss Swan and a hefty dose of awkward silence for company. 

Regina heaved a sigh that finished on a grimace when her wound protested. Good grief, she’d never missed magic more. 

Emma cleared her throat. 

“Are you alright?” 

Regina opened her eyes and favoured the younger woman with an arched eyebrow. 

“I mean, you look like you’re in pain. Do you need a doctor?” 

“No.” Regina thought about getting off the bed and realised falling flat on her face would only add insult to injury. “I’m fine.” 

“Right.” Emma nodded and tacked on hurriedly. “Good.” 

“Out with it, Miss Swan. I haven’t all day.” Well, she did, but she didn’t want that to give the deputy any ideas. 

“I need to ask you some questions with regards to the attack.” Emma slipped into a more professional tone. 

“I already gave my statement to the Sheriff.” 

“Yes, but I need one too. Sheriff Humbert isn’t exactly impartial. He’s technically a witness too.” 

Regina favoured her with a stony glare but finally nodded. They had rehearsed their story. Regina knew more than enough about telling the truth and still not being honest to get around this mysterious lie detection skill of Emma’s. It would be a pain in the ass –something Swan excelled at- but Regina could handle it.

“Ask away.” 

“Where did the attack happen?” Emma surprised Regina by pulling out small tape recorder and setting it on the table at the end of the bed where both of them might clearly be heard.

“I’m not sure exactly where. It’s a little hazy, but close to the Sheriff’s house.” All true.

“At what time?” 

“About two in the morning.” 

“You were walking?”

“Yes, I’d had some of my cider.” Regina stalled the next question. “Not drunk, but over the legal limit.” 

“What were you doing out so late?” 

“As you well know, Graham and I have been…troubled. I was going to see if I could fix things.” 

“At two in the morning?”

“I had to wait until Henry was asleep. He’s been staying up later and later reading that book of his. Plotting my downfall.” Regina gave a slight smirk which Emma didn’t share. “Once he was asleep, I left him a note on the fridge telling him that he could call my cell if he needed to get to me. As per our agreement.”

“You leave him in the middle of the night?” 

“I’m the Mayor, burst water pipes, fires, gas leaks, my job only pretends to be nine to five. If I have to go, I tell him that I am gone and where he can get hold of me.” Regina’s tone was clipped, daring Emma to pick a fight. “I don’t make a habit of it.” 

“This wasn’t exactly a town emergency.” 

“When you have a question pertaining to the case, feel free to ask it, Miss Swan.” 

Chastised, Emma cleared her throat and glanced out the window, recovering herself.

“Alright, so, you were walking to Sheriff Humbert’s house, you were attacked close by at two in the morning. Can you describe your assailant?” 

“It was a man. He surprised me so I didn’t have time to get a proper look. He grabbed my arm first,” Regina held up her cast to show which, “then he threw me to the ground. Doctor Whale tells me that’s when my shoulder must have dislocated. He picked me up by my hair and stabbed me.” 

Emma was watching her carefully. 

“You seem very…calm about all this.” 

“What you see and what I feel are not always synonymous, Miss Swan. You have no right to view my personal feelings about anything. Why would I share them with you?” 

“Fair enough.” Emma toyed with the recorder a moment, shifting it so it was closer to Regina. “Did you see anything about him? A distinguishing feature? Scars? Tattoos? Anything.” 

“Nothing. I didn’t even see his clothes. The only thing I saw with any clarity was his eyes and…” Regina halted then, haunted by what she had seen in Graham’s eyes, she bit her lip without meaning to and then shook it off. “They were vacant.”

“Vacant?” 

“Devoid of reason or sense.” Regina clarified, trying not to show how much that had terrified her. “Mad. His eyes were…mad.” 

Emma watched her for a long moment, surprised to have seen the Mayor affected by anything, let alone madness. Especially when Emma considered her to be madder than a bag of cats herself. 

“I have to ask; were you assaulted in any other way?” 

“Are you asking if I was raped?” Regina didn’t enjoy the flinch it evinced from the other woman. 

“Or any kind of sexual assault.” Emma nodded. 

“No.” Regina shook her head. “He did not rape me or grope me or anything of the kind. Being stabbed was more than enough.” 

Emma looked away and clenched her jaw. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know.” Regina’s voice –surprisingly even to herself- held no satisfaction in making Emma uncomfortable about such things. 

“Fine.” Emma shook it off and continued. “So he stabbed you and just…left?” 

“He must have thought I was dead or dying.” Regina shrugged and regretted the move when her stitches tugged. “I don’t remember him leaving but I don’t remember how I could have gotten to Graham’s house in such a state either.” Which was true only because it hadn’t happened at all. 

“You let yourself in?” 

“Yes.” 

“With a key?” 

“Yes.” 

“Where is it?” 

“What?” Regina blinked, that one had thrown her. 

“The key. The one that Sheriff Humbert gave to you to get into his house. Where is it?” 

Regina was silent a long moment, caught completely off guard. She hadn’t expected Swan to focus on that one detail when there were so many other blood soaked ones on offer. 

“I have no idea.” Regina slowly shook her head. “I haven’t seen it.” Another thing that was true because it didn’t exist. Regina might well have a key, she had keys for everywhere, but Graham had never given her one.

“Okay.” Emma nodded, appearing to make a mental note. “So you got to his house, through his front door, then what?” 

“I made my way to his bedroom and woke him. He took me to the hospital.”

“You had the knife sticking out of you the whole time?” 

“It was the only thing that stopped me from bleeding to death.” 

“Can you explain why Sheriff Humbert’s fingerprints are all over it?”

“I imagine mine are as well.” Regina frowned. “I wanted to pull it out, he had to stop me.” 

“Why would you want to pull it out? If you knew it was plugging the wound.” Emma tilted her head. 

“Have you ever been stabbed, Miss Swan?”

“No.” 

“Then believe me when I tell you that the experience is far from enjoyable. It is one thing to academically know that the knife perforating my chest was ironically the only thing keeping me alive, it is quite another to be able to withstand the agony of it being there. I wanted it out because it hurt more than anything else I’ve ever had to endure.” 

“That was a lie.” 

Regina raised her eyebrows and Emma blinked, surprised at herself. She pressed her lips together.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Fair enough.” Regina spoke over her. “I have survived worse but it ranks in the top five.” 

Emma silenced herself so quickly her teeth clipped together and she nodded once. 

“One more thing…”

Emma silenced herself when the door swung open to allow Graham and Henry back in. 

“Are you guys finished?” Henry looked between the two women. 

“No.” Emma spoke before Regina could. “I have one more question.” 

Graham looked unhappy, straightening from the wheelchair he had pushed into the room, but settled his hand on Henry’s shoulder, prepared to steer him outside again. 

“Out with it, Miss Swan.” Regina ordered her. 

“Do you know why you were attacked?” 

Regina tilted her head, surprised – now that she thought on it- that the question hadn’t come up before now.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me if I have any enemies?” 

“I don’t have time for the list.” Emma spoke before she could stop herself. 

“Emma!” Henry hissed at her. 

“It’s alright. I know I’m not well liked.” Regina smiled for Henry and looked about herself, plotting how to get down off the bed without crumpling into a heap on the floor. “In answer to your question; I cannot know exactly, but I suspect he attacked me because he was very –very- angry and wanted to hurt me.” 

Henry stepped closer to her and she smiled for him. 

“Don’t worry. I’m alright.” Regina carefully, very carefully, lowered herself to the floor and tested her weight on her legs. She wobbled and leaned against the bed rather than try and walk just yet. “Now, if you’re done?” 

“For now.” Emma scooped up the tape recorder and ended the recording, stuffing it into her pocket.

“Good.” Regina reached for her blazer and pulled it carefully on, freezing when Graham stepped forward and helped her into it. His arms going around her in a move that was as familiar as it was rattling. 

“I’ve filled out all the paperwork.” Graham murmured to her, straightening her blazer gently –certainly not the first time he had helped her dress- and used it to tug her upright and away from the bed. Measuring the way she weaved a little with dark eyes. “You can go home.” 

“About time.” Regina waved him out of her way and worked herself up into trying to walk. She stilled when Graham pushed the wheelchair in front of her. “No.” 

“Regina…”

“No.” She spoke more firmly.

“Just to the car.” 

“No.” Regina reiterated. “I’ve been seen as enough of an invalid as it is. I don’t need it.” 

She might need a Tramadol or six by the time she got to the car, but she wasn’t going in a damn wheelchair. 

“Mom, please.” 

Regina softened a little but didn’t waver. 

“Henry, I’ve spent the last four days lying, sitting or variations along the theme. I’m done with it. I want to walk.” 

“If you pull your stitches you’ll wind up right back here.” Graham told her coolly. Unimpressed with her antics. 

Which made her mad. 

“I’m not planning on doing any cartwheels, I’m just going to walk to the damn car!” Regina mustered herself under control abruptly. Where had that come from? She was usually better at controlling herself than that. 

“Fine.” Graham straightened and pushed the wheelchair out of the way. “You won’t go in the chair?”

“No.” Regina would have folded her arms over her chest had the very prospect not made her ache. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes.” 

“I can’t talk you into it.?” 

“Not a chance.” 

“Well,” Graham glanced down at Henry with an almost smirk on his mouth, “I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.” 

Regina squeaked in surprise when he suddenly scooped her up into his arms and held her as easily as if she weighed no more than a kitten. 

“Grahamputmedown!” Regina clutched at his neck. 

“Why? Does it hurt?” 

“No, it’s…”

“Then I don’t care.” Graham turned, heading for the door and Regina gasped in outrage even as Emma opened the door for them to let them out into the hallway. 

“This is embarrassing.” Regina hissed at him. 

“Not as embarrassing as falling flat on your face in front of the entire hospital, I’ll wager.” Graham smirked at her. 

Bastard. 

“Put me down. Now.” Regina tried to command him and he just snorted at her. 

“You don’t control me, pet.” 

“Pet?!” Her voice lowered to a dangerous growl. 

“Pet.” He smirked at her, speaking in a tone only she could hear. “The leash is on the other neck, majesty. You’d best learn to live with it.” 

“You’ll pay for that.” She warned him. 

“I’ve paid for more than enough. It’s time to collect.” Graham strode out of the hospital hallways and into the lobby, ignoring the stares they attracted. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m in charge,” Graham met her furious gaze with a smug one of his own, “and you’re not.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – A Darker Motive**

 

He was watching her.

She could feel it.

Constantly.

It was driving her crazy.

…er

Driving her crazi _er_.

Regina sat on the couch, Henry nestled close beside her, and stared sightlessly at whatever movie he’d picked to keep her occupied.

She hadn’t taken in one syllable of dialogue. She was far too aware of Graham prowling around in the background. He padded about the house in that predatory silent way of his, stalking shadows and checking the doors and windows.

It was an old habit, she knew. He had been captain of her guard back in the Enchanted Forest. He had also been her primary bodyguard. Responsible for both her safety and that of her borders.

It would seem old habits would die hard.

Then again, it could all be a show for Henry.

There wasn’t really a knife wielding maniac out there thirsting for Regina’s blood.

Oh no, he was right there in her living room with her.

Still, Graham was doing a good impression of keeping watch over her and her son. He had spent the last half hour or so doing laps of the house, checking on them every so often and heckling Regina to take her pills like a good little invalid. Ordering her to stay on the couch and let him and Henry fetch her anything she needed. Escorting her even to the bathroom.

Fair enough, she had been contemplating digging to freedom with her toothbrush at that point, but he would hardly know that.

Barely an afternoon under his watch and he was already smothering her.

The Huntsman had been _there_. A constant shadow in the corner of her eye. Apparently acting her nursemaid but in reality her jailor and she already felt the walls closing in.

Regina buried her hand completely in Henry’s hair so suddenly he squeaked in surprise but –upon looking up and seeing her staring sightlessly at the television- decided he could put up with it. She petted his head, the slightest frown marring her marble still face, and seemed completely lost to whatever thoughts plagued her.

“Mom? You okay?”

Regina blinked and shook herself, not unaware of Graham’s shadow suddenly looming in the doorway at the sound of concern from Henry.

“Yes. I’m fine.” Regina noticed where her hand was and she extricated herself from his hair, smoothing it down with a different kind of frown on her face. “You need a haircut, young man.”

Henry smiled, glad to finally have something normal from her.

“Yeah.”

“We can go after school tomorrow.” She decided, jumping on the excuse to be out of the house.

Surrounded by witnesses and not left to the mercy of the Huntsman for any longer than necessary. She had come to the realisation that he had saved her for the simple reasoning of needing her alive so she could suffer. She had a fair idea of what he had planned for her –probably the same thing she had done to him for decades- and he would need her healthy for it if he planned on her surviving the first night…but those would just be the nights. During the day, at least, she planned to stay in public view as much as possible so that he wouldn’t be alone to toy with her.

“You going to be well enough for me to leave you alone?” Henry tilted his head.

Regina wavered, her desire not to be left alone with the cold blooded killer looming about her house only outmatched by her need to be a decent mother. To be decent at something. Anything.

“I’ll be fine.”

“She’ll be with me, Henry.” Graham appeared so suddenly at the back of the couch that she flinched and then winced when her stitches pulled. “Sorry, pet.” Graham’s hand spanned the back of her head and stroked her hair once. Pulling away before she could turn and snap at him with her teeth.

She bristled at the name he now had for her but didn’t rise to the bait.

Was that his endgame? To annoy her into revealing that she knew all about the curse in front of Henry?

Well he was going to have a long wait ahead of him. She had lived with Snow and Leopold for years before she’d had the right opportunity to kill her husband and then the freedom to move onto his daughter. She might be a psychopath but she was under her own control and she had the patience of a continent.

“Don’t you get Wednesdays off?” Henry looked up at Graham.

“Yeah but Emma’s got the night shifts right now so I can be here.” Graham folded his arms on the back of the couch and bent at the waist so he could prop his chin on his crossed forearms.

“So how are you supposed to look after mom?” Henry’s face hardened in a frown and Regina cut in before Graham could overtake every decision in her life in a single afternoon.

“I can sit in a drug induced stupor in the station as easily as I can here, Henry. I won’t be alone.” Regina smiled at him and ignored Graham’s dark eyes burning into the side of her head. She would be alone with Graham in the station house but at least they would be in a public place.

“There’s beds in the cells.” Graham agreed easily enough. Smirking. “And locking you up behind bars is probably the only way I’ll have to keep you from sneaking back to the office.”

Henry giggled and Regina arched a brow at one and then the other.

“Really? Do you truly want to be stuck with me for ten hours with nothing to entertain me?”

“We can play cards.” Graham’s smirk didn’t dissipate.

“I can do paperwork!” Regina was dangerously close to a huff. “It’s not exactly strenuous. Nothing happens unless this one goes off on another one of his… _operations_!” Regina waved at Henry.

Both Henry and Graham stared at her and Regina looked between them. Her gaze rested on Henry when his eyes were wide and he had paled.

“What is it?”

“I’m not doing that stuff anymore!” The words burst from Henry raggedly. “I don’t wanna break the curse. Not if it hurts you.” Henry’s eyes were wet but he sniffed hard and didn’t let the tears fall.

Graham looked alarmed at the hairpin turn the conversation had taken and glanced wildly at Regina.

She looked surprised but not at a loss as to what to do.

“Henry, I told you,” Regina rested her good hand on the boy’s shoulder, “this wasn’t your fault. Nothing you did caused this.”

“But I tried to break the curse and…and…you nearly died.”

“Oh, come now,” Regina took on a no nonsense tone when his tears began to fall, “I’m far tougher than that. One man? Please. It would take an army to steal me from you.”

Regina used the corner of one of the blankets that Henry had buried her under to wipe at his cheeks.

“You really got hurt, mom.”

“Yes. I did,” Regina glanced sideways at Graham, “but Graham saved me and now I have lots of lovely pills that let me see pink elephants rather than feel any pain.” Regina tapped him on the nose with the now damp corner of blanket.

Henry gave a watery smile. His face grew serious again.

“You’re really going to be okay?” He reached out and took her hand suddenly. “You promise?”

Regina’s eyes betrayed her and she looked at Graham. Yes, she would probably be fine, had it not been for one Huntsman intent on extracting his revenge from her one bloodied piece at a time. Graham frowned at her, as if trying to figure out what she was thinking, and she tore her gaze from his to look at Henry.

“Of course. Nothing would make me leave you.” She ignored previous attempts at suicide by Huntsman. That had been mistake, she knew that now. She’d take any pain for Henry.

She glanced at Graham again.

Any pain.

Graham frowned at her, displeased by what he saw in her eyes apparently and straightened up from the back of the couch.

“Right, I think it’s time for all good little boys and Mayors to be in bed. Henry, you get the television and the lights and I’ll get your mother.”

“’Kay.” Henry sniffled one last time and threw himself from the couch, glad to have something to do.

“You’ll what?” Regina spoke archly.

“You really want to try all those stairs, knackered as you are?” Graham rounded the couch and stood over her. “If you fall over even once, you’re going straight back to the hospital.”

Regina glared at him for a long moment and then heaved a resigned sigh. She wordlessly held up her arms and ignored his smirk of triumph.

This was to be a war between them. She would fight him on everything and he would try to conquer her every movement and they would forever keep score. They would tally victories and losses with neurotic care until long after they had forgotten what they were fighting about.

Graham took note of his points so far and stooped, sliding his arms around her waist and under her knees, lifting her carefully.

She huffed out a pained breath but shook her head when he looked at her sharply.

“Just bent the wrong way.” She straightened her spine and breathed a sigh of relief, even though it was an exhausting tension to hold herself that way.

Graham shifted his hold, making it a bit easier on her so that she pretty much just sat on one arm and he only steadied her with the other.

They were a silent procession, heading up the stairs and Graham might have set her feet on the floor when they reached the landing at the top but he didn’t release her until she was propped against the doorframe of Henry’s room.

“You going to be alright here while I make up the guest bed?” Graham ducked his head a little so they were at eye level. He challenged her to lie to him.

“I should be fine so long as I don’t do anything strenuous.” Regina clipped at him and let out a slow sigh. “Like…breathe heavily.”

Graham smirked and turned to head down the hallway and leave mother and son to bid each other goodnight, stalling when he nearly walked into Henry.

“You guys don’t have to pretend anymore. You know that, right?” Henry looked between both adults. “I’m fine with Graham being here, mom. I’m not weirded out by you sleeping next to each other or nothing. I never meant to come between you.”

Graham twisted to look at Regina and she blinked. Caught off guard by having to make this decision. She had assumed that Henry wouldn’t question them taking separate beds but apparently he felt more guilt than she had realised. Regina met Graham’s questioning gaze, her eyes wide with tension. He smirked. Shit.

“That’s a relief.” Graham reached out and tousled Henry’s hair. “I much prefer cuddling your mum anyway.”

Regina very nearly rolled her eyes, clinging to her disdain to beat back the panic.

“I’m going to get the stuff to change the dressings on you.” Graham told Regina. “Don’t overdo it.” He turned away from her and Regina stayed where she was, reclined against the doorframe.

She resisted the strong urge to stick her tongue out at him, which was the fiercest invective she could summon right then.

She looked down only when she became aware of Henry hovering uncertainly at her side.

“Lean on me?”

Regina hesitated, not wanting to be dependent on anyone, let alone one of the people she was responsible for looking after. She realised, however, if she wanted to get all the way across the room to his bed then she was going to need help. So she summoned a smile and draped her good arm over his shoulders and winced towards the bed.

Henry walked with the care of someone responsible for a sculpture of spun sugar and he only seemed to relax once Regina was safely perched on the bed.

“Right, pyjamas and then teeth brushed.” Regina tried to cover her discomfort –both physical and mental- with a brisk tone.

Henry hurried to do as he was bid, splashing enthusiastically in the bathroom and then hurrying back to bed. He hurled himself under the covers and bounced there a moment, smiling uncertainly at her. Regina tilted her head.

“What’s wrong?” She rested her hand on top of his knee under the quilt.

“It’s just…you haven’t done this in a long time. Tucked me in, I mean.”

Regina opened her mouth to reply but he hurriedly spoke over her.

“It’s my fault. I said I didn’t want you to anymore and…that’s not really true.” Henry looked down at his fidgeting hands for a moment and Regina waited him out. “I just…I was so mad at you and now I’m mad at myself and…I dunno.”

“You were mad at me about the curse?”

“Yeah.”

“You still believe there is a curse?”

Henry bit his lip and looked away from her. She gave his knee a brief squeeze.

“Talk to me.” Maybe it was the pain medication or the bone deep fatigue –possibly even the near death experience- but Regina’s demand was more of a request. How out of character, she mused.

“I still…think it needs broken.” Henry looked up at her, braced for her reaction and seemed dumbfounded when she just watched him. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I need to find another way.”

Regina’s mouth twisted and she looked down at the bedspread, tracing the superhero pattern on it with her finger.

She thought about it. Really thought about it.

She hadn’t felt mortal in such a long time. Before the curse, she had been chock full of magic. So terrifyingly steeped in it that nothing short of Rumple with a serious vendetta would have been able to pose her any lasting threat. She’d been paranoid, of course, wary of poison and whatnot, but that had been more to do with looking weak than it had any serious threat to her health.

Then, after the curse, nothing changed in Storybrooke. She hadn’t aged, none of them had. Injuries were so minor –a wicked bad papercut was as life threatening as it got- that Regina couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her own blood.

Of course, she had made that up last week by seeing nearly all of it at once.

Still, it was a short, sharp, shock to be suddenly confronted with the reality that she might well die…and that was what the end of the curse could mean for her. If not the magical backlash of it being broken then the angry mob created afterwards.

On top of that, would Henry even come with them all back to the Enchanted Forest? There was nothing to say that he would. Nothing at all. He had been born in this world, he belonged here.

No. He belonged with _her_.

Regina sighed, then again, she should probably come around to the reality of the situation that the curse was breaking and that she was losing. She was losing and she couldn’t think of a way out. She couldn’t think of another back up plan, another evil scheme, another cunning get out clause, nothing. She had nothing to save herself.

Not anymore.

“Mom?”

“Do you still think I’m the Evil Queen?” Regina looked up at him suddenly and Henry sucked in a breath. Obviously that had been the one question he had hoped she wouldn’t ask.

“I…no.” Henry fidgeted for another moment. “Not anymore. I think you were, a long time ago, but not anymore. Now…you’re my mom.”

Regina managed something of a sad smile.

“Well, I suppose that’s progress.” She thought about how to pacify him for now. “Tell you what; you think about an alternative to breaking the curse and we’ll talk more after you get your haircut tomorrow.”

“Really?” Henry looked understandably sceptical.

“Really.” Regina nodded. “I didn’t want to send you away to speak to someone else about this, Henry, I just never thought that you would speak to me about it. If you’re willing, so am I.”

“So…it’s real?” Henry watched her with wide eyes and Regina gathered herself. She really didn’t have the strength for this.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Henry opened his mouth to protest and then seemed to think better of it when he noticed how pale she was. He smiled instead.

“Okay.” He scooted forward suddenly and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then –incredibly gently- hugged her about the neck. “I love you, mom.”

Regina’s arm around his waist tightened at those words and she sucked in a surprised breath, her eyes suddenly burning.

“What’s going on?” Graham loomed in the doorway.

Regina pulled sharply away from Henry and bit back the gasp of pain that it brought her.

“I was tucking Henry in.” Her voice was dangerous but Graham didn’t appear to care.

“I heard you gasp, I thought you were hurting.” He didn’t apologise either, prowling over to stand over her by the bed instead. He looked down at Henry. “Securely tucked in?”

“No danger of monsters getting me.” Henry smiled.

It had been a joke between them since the first night Graham had checked in on him before Henry had gone to bed at Emma and Mary Margaret’s. Graham took tucking in very seriously and had gone so far as to stuff the edges of the sheets under the mattress. Apparently this was to stop the monsters from under the bed reaching under the duvet and dragging Henry away by the ankle…and with that charming image the good Sheriff had turned off the light and left the boy alone in the dark.

Loudly assuring himself that there was no such thing as monsters under the bed.

Graham apparently believed that abject terror was a healthy part of every childhood.

“Do I want to know?” Regina looked between them.

“No.” Graham smirked at her and Regina was struck by the sudden urge to kick him in the shins.

She muscled it down.

Just.

“You ready?”

Regina pressed her lips together realising she had no other excuses to cling to and nodded.

“Goodnight, mom.” Henry wriggled down under his covers and smiled at her.

Regina smiled as a matter of course.

“Goodnight, Graham.”

Her smile became a little brittle.

“You can walk?”

“Yes.” Regina snapped at him.

He was silent a beat.

“Are you going to any time soon?”

“Shut up.” Regina grumbled and gripped his arm, using him as a ladder to get to her feet.

Graham stood patiently, his hand on her elbow helping her without either of them acknowledging it and Regina turned back to Henry, pressing a kiss to her fingers and then tapping her fingers against his nose. He smiled at her and Regina –now really out of stalling tactics- let Graham lead her from the room.

The bone deep tension that she’d been stewing in all afternoon began to seethe and boil. She felt herself get more and more wound up in the five steps between Henry’s bedroom and her own to the point where she thought one of her eyes was going to fall out.

Graham was either oblivious or purposefully ignoring it.

“Do you want to shower now or tomorrow?”

“Uh…” Regina was so tired that her brain took a long time to catch up with the simple question. “Tomorrow.”

All she wanted now was her bed.

“Alright.” Graham propped her up against the end of the bed and his hands went to the buttons of her mystery dress.

She stiffened and her chest began to painfully heave with every panicked breath. She tried to muscle it down, tried to get control of herself, but she shook all over and…

“Hey.” Graham gripped her by the chin, lifting her face, and forced her to look him in the eye. “I will never force you.”

“Hah!” The word left her almost as a sob of disbelief.

“I mean it. I’ve no desire to take that which is not given.” Graham continued to unbutton her dress, watching as the parting material revealed smooth olive toned skin underneath. She really was beautiful.

“Then why are you stripping me?”

“Because I need to dress your wound and I honestly don’t think you can even lift your arms right now.” Graham’s voice was quiet, he was a little busy with being confronted with exactly how much damage he had wrought on her tiny frame.

The cast on her arm had been an uncomfortable reminder but to see the rest of it… Her entire right shoulder was a rainbow mass of pain and bruising from where it had been dislocated. There was a lot of bruising over her heart as well, from where he had pushed half of his heart onto hers, not to mention the angry reds, purples, greens and yellows that spread over her sternum like a storm cloud.

His jaw clenched.

Regina worked her good arm free of the dress and he painstakingly helped her loose her injured arm, quietly amazed that she could even function in as much pain as she had to be in. The dress rumpled to her waist, catching on her curve of her hips.

Graham left it where it was and turned away for the medical supplies needed to change her dressing.

It wasn’t until he turned back and looked at her that he truly realised how vulnerable she was.

Regina stood at the foot of her bed, her dress caught at her hips, held up by her slim bruised fingers poking out the end of her over bright cast. Her other hand was braced against the bedframe, white knuckled with the effort of keeping her upright. Her bruised lip caught between white teeth, her chest heaving with shivering breaths.

She was not embarrassed about her nudity. She had always known that she was beautiful. She had used it as her greatest weapon more than once. Not just on him, but on any other man who desired her…and there had been a great many of those. A hint of leg, a flash of cleavage, a toss of that long raven hair she’d had so many years ago…she’d been good at it. Invincible.

Now she was terrified.

Trying to hide it, of course. So damn proud, even now, but he could feel it radiating from her heart in waves. That connection between them not having dimmed in the slightest. He could feel her heart racing. Her wide eyes watching him. Waiting for the blow to fall. She’d never had someone who had power over her that didn’t use it to cause her as much pain as possible.

He would not be another.

She sucked in a harsh breath when he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. Her hand lifted, as if to ward him off, and she rocked back against the bedframe without its support. He ignored her, knowing she was about as strong as a kitten right then, and set to carefully peeling away the white pad over the wound in her chest. He was as gentle as he could be. He knew it would only stress her further waiting for the pain that wouldn’t come but he found himself quite unable to hurt her.

He finally peeled away the bandage and found himself at eye level with her wound. It looked disproportionately small for something that had caused her so much pain. Just a little over three fingers wide, stitched neatly with black thread. It was perfectly verticle nestled in the apex of her ribs leading up into her sternum.

The angle had been wrong –he remembered- to slide the knife higher and between her ribs. He’d had to settle for jamming the blade in and twisting it up behind her sternum in order to reach her heart.

The bruising was so dark and angry that it appeared as if the wound still seeped blood.

He was drawn from his thoughts when her hand gently –so gently- came to a rest on top of his head. Her fingers tangled in his curling hair. He glanced up, seeing her head tilt back a little. She was still trying to control her breathing and failing miserably. He continued to ignore her and let her stew in the agony of whether or not he was about to gouge his fingers into her wound just because he could.

But he was not one of her past tormentors. He would wage a war on her that would be all the more devastating because it was so alien.

He vowed then never to hurt her again.  _That_ she would have no defence against.

He wouldn’t hurt her, but there was a myriad of other tortures available to him. After all, he did know her inside and out.

She sucked in a breath when the cool of the alcohol was dabbed against the wound in order to beat back the chance of infection but it was a hurt that he had to deal to her, not one that he wished on her. Her fingers tightened in his hair, as they had done many times in the past for so different a reason.

He blew on the damp skin, causing goosebumps to flare over her flesh, and then applied a fresh pad. He taped it into place and settled his hands on her hips, waiting for her to release his hair so he could rise.

The silence stretched between them and he stayed where he was. His thumbs rubbed small circles on her bare skin. She still looked up at the ceiling.

“Why?” Her voice was low and it cracked halfway through that single agonised word.

“Why what?” Her hand finally slid from his hair, brushing down over his cheek, the strong chords of his neck, to rest on his shoulder. He pushed to his feet, holding her steady when she tried to rock away from him and nearly fell because of it.

“Why aren’t you hurting me?”

Graham huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh and his mouth twisted in an almost smile.

“Well, pet,” he enjoyed the way she bristled at the name, “it’s most likely because I’m not you.”

He was disconcerted to feel the flinch of guilt tear through her. That torrent of feeling that savaged her. So many emotions and so powerful that it just felt like a storm. One triggering another and another until all she could do was brace herself against it and hope there would still be something of her left when it passed.

Graham’s jaw clenched and he turned away, scooping up her pill bottle and rattling two out into his palm. He found a glass of water and held them out to her.

“Take your medicine.”

Regina shook her head.

“Regina…”

“I don’t want them.” She was back to clinging the bedframe to stay upright.

“They’ll help you sleep.” He tried to bribe her.

“I don’t like them. I’m not in control when I’m drugged.”

“You’re not in control at all.” He pushed the pills closer to her. “I am. Take your damn medicine.”

“I will fight you.”

“Good.” He was hardly impressed. She was pale and trembling. “It’ll let me know you’re still you.”

“Is this guilt?” Regina blinked rapidly against the dizziness that assailed her. “For…something?”

“For nearly killing you?” Graham took her hand in his and dropped the pills into her palm, daring her to toss them away. He shook his head. “Not guilt. Something you’re more intimate with.” His smiled was more a baring of teeth. “This is revenge, pet.”

“Revenge?” Regina frowned at him and finally gave in, taking the pills and drinking down the water to wash the chalky taste from her mouth. “Nursing me back to health is your revenge? I don’t think you’ve been paying attention.”

“Killing you would be too messy. Not when I don’t know if it would actually end the curse.” Graham gripped her dress suddenly and shoved it over her hips, letting it crumple to the floor. He caught the glass from her hand before she could drop it and held her up with a hand at her waist. Her eyes were wide and frightened again. “No, pet, I’m going to do something worse.”

“And…what is that?” She gulped hard, still desperately trying not to be afraid but he could feel it coiling around his and her heart both.

“Simple.” He leaned in close, so close his nose brushed hers and her breath caught. With a practiced hand, he unclasped her bra and peeled it away from her chest.

“I-is it?” She clenched her jaw when she realised she had stammered. That his control already extended to her vocal chords.

“Oh yes, simplest thing in the world.” Graham walked her backwards, rounding the bed. He tore back the covers and pushed her down, looming over her. Her chest was heaving, her hands fisting in the sheets. Her jaw was clenched so tightly he feared for her teeth but he let her stew in it for just a few moments more.

“I already told you that I wouldn’t force you.” Graham ducked his head to her throat and her hand buried in his hair again. No doubt fearing he intended to tear out her jugular with his teeth. Admittedly not the first time he had done similar but it had never been directed at her. He had much preferred the prospect of throttling her. He let his teeth graze her, measuring the rabbit quick pace of her pulse thundering just under her skin.

“That’s the only way you’ll ever have me again.” She shivered under him though he barely touched her. His hands resting in the cinch of her waist his teeth grazing her skin over and over and over. He chuckled and it thrummed through her.

“Is it, pet? I think not.” His teeth skimmed her again and she had no control over her spine arching towards him despite or perhaps because of how it stung.

“I know you, creature of appetites, female of hunger, ravenous woman. You’ll beg.” He chuckled again and it managed to draw a whimper from her.

“Never.” Her voice was a harsh and hitching whisper.

His hand suddenly ghosted down over her thigh and spanned it, lifting it, parting her legs. He used the grip to push her higher up the bed though he stayed where he was. His stubble rasping into her cleavage, his breath gusting hot over her nipple.

“You’ll beg and gasp and mewl for me and I’ll take you and –when I do- then I’ll own you.” He drew away suddenly, leaving her cold, her eyes flying open. He drew the sheets over her, a knowing smirk pulling his mouth. “Own you as completely as you own me.”

“Never.” He just laughed at her again and leaned in close suddenly, biting a tender nip on her chin.

“I know better, pet, I remember _everything_ now.” Then he rose, crossing the room and dousing the light. A fitting metaphor, she thought, for she had never been more in the dark.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – C’est la Guerre**

 

**_Storybrooke, Year 18 of the Curse…_ **

 

Regina had taken to simply holding his heart for no reason whatsoever.

She would sit studiously in her office, working away quietly, one leg folded over the other. One hand holding her pen as she made annotations to the endless reams of paperwork that plagued her desk and the other cradled in her lap. The warm pulse of his heart throbbing within the cage of her fingers.

Today, however, very little work was being done.

She had done it, gone to Gold, demanded he’d find her a child…and he’d agreed.

She was going to be a mother.

A thrill went through her as well as a streak of stark terror. She had thought she was too jaded to have fear anymore. Any kind of fear. It was such an old friend to her –she had been raised with it after all- that she had thought it far too familiar to her to pull a fast one on her and make her heart race once more and her palms clammy.

How undignified.

No. She would be a wonderful mother. She was sure.

It would be easy. All she would have to do, was think about everything her own mother had done…and do the complete opposite.

Simple.

Then why was her heart still pounding whenever she thought about the moment when Gold would hand the child over to her?

Regina’s pen dropped over the papers, scoring a wobbling line over one of them before curling away over the desk. She sat back, holding Graham’s heart in both hands and raising them so it rested on her chest over the thump of her own kicking heart.

She didn’t notice the flush of purple that thrilled through the enchanted crystal at the proximity.

Everything was going to change.

Terror reared its head again and clawed at her insides and Regina shook it off with a scowl. She lifted his heart further, rolling it between her palms, absorbing the feverish warmth of it. She tucked her chin a little, resting the heart against her lips.

The power soothed her.

All she had to do was speak, whisper even, and he’d come running.

So not everything would change.

Regina’s frown deepened. She’d have to tell him. He…he _remembered_ things. Even things she didn’t want him to. He was certainly going to notice when she started setting up the nursery. He would notice when she brought the baby home. He would notice the little bundle sleeping in the room next to hers…he would notice everything.

Probably best to tell him now.

Regina leaned forward suddenly, picking up the telephone and punching in the numbers from memory. She’d had a long time to learn the number after all. She waited while it rang, looking down at the heart cradled in her hand still.

It really was quite beautiful.

Quite large, as enchanted hearts went, power thrumming through it in delicious little eddies and whorls. A deep crimson red, so dark in places it was almost purple with flurries of green pulsing along the crystalized veins, sparks of silver and –oddly- flashes of purple deep within it. Like lightning in a tiny storm.

She always thought it odd that there was purple in there. Green and silver made perfect sense to her. His wolf had been silver and he even had streaks of it in the pale green of his eyes. Green seemed fitting too, not only because of his eyes but because he had spent his entire life in the forest. He was a part of it as much as it had been him…but purple?

Regina’s musings on the subject were cut off when the phone was finally answered.

“Sheriff’s Department.” Graham’s deep timbre rolled along the phone line and Regina was unaware of her smile.

“Well, you took your sweet time.”

“Madame Mayor,” she could hear the slow and –unsurprisingly- wolfish grin spreading over his mouth, “what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Charmer. She had taught him well. It had taken her _years_ to train him. Stubborn brute. Her stubborn, handsome, brute.

“I want to see you.” Regina studied his heart, watching the storm within. She could and had spent hours watching the tiny tempest rage. He had _such_ power in him. It was really rather intoxicating. One of the many reasons she had decided to keep him.

“Very forward.” He chuckled. “Tonight?”

“No.” Regina glanced at the clock, it was a little after one, she wanted this over with. “Now.”

“Are you alright?”

Regina smirked at the concern in his tone. It was probably one of the things she liked most about the curse. The mirage of his affection.

“No, I just want to talk to you about something. How soon can you be here?”

“And you can’t tell me over the phone?” His tone was guarded.

“I’d prefer it to be in person.”

“Right. Ten minutes.” Regina’s brows rose.

“It’s not terribly urgent, if you’re busy –I don’t know- fighting crime or something then…”

“No. I’ll be there.”

Regina blinked when the dial tone filled her ear. Had he…?

He _had_.

He’d hung up on her!

Regina pulled the handset away from her ear and stared at it for a moment, convinced that it must surely be a fault of the technology of this world because her Huntsman just _couldn’t_ have hung. Up. On. Her.

Regina’s eyes flashed and her jaw clenched. He _dared_ …hurry…to do…her bidding…

Regina thumped back into her chair and scowled at herself. What was the matter with her? She was being madder than usual.

She had to admit that he’d sounded worried on the phone and she probably could have worked harder to reassure him. All that programmed affection of his came at the cost of him being terribly… _male_ at times.

Still, he was on his way and that was what she had wanted.

She cupped his heart in both hands and went completely still, staring down at it. Her eyes flashed to the phone and she frowned again. Huffing out a sigh through her nose, Regina rolled her eyes at herself. What a fool, she’d wasted time on a phone call when she could have simply summoned him with the heart in her hand without ever having to talk to him.

Then again, she’d have missed his voice and the chance to preen under his affections had she simply summoned him with magic.

Regina groaned and lifted her free hand, pinching the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. She was a _mess_. What the hell was the matter with her?

She sat like that for a while, in deep meditation as to what had so upset her and was so intent on trying to untangle the psychotic weave of her thought processes that she was completely unaware of the passage of time and oblivious to Graham’s arrival until the doors to her office opened and he strode in.

“What is it?”

Regina’s head snapped up, her hand dropping from her face and she stared at him. She sat forward quickly when she realised she still held his heart in her hand. Well, it wasn’t like it would pass for a paperweight, was it?

“I’m sorry, Madame Mayor, I tried to stop him…” Julie, Regina’s assistant, quailed under the glower that Graham levelled at her.

“Begone.” The single world rumbled from deep within his chest and Regina’s brows rose.

He hadn’t growled like that in a _long_ time.

She disentangled herself from the happy female things that it did to her and waved at Julie.

“It’s alright, Julie. I was expecting him. We shall discuss his manners presently.” The last was directed at Graham and he just looked at her impatiently.

“Are you sure?” Julie glanced with concern at the Sheriff and then back to the Mayor.

Graham was usually the picture of affable manners, what could have gotten him so riled? Julie couldn’t remember a time when the Sheriff had ever given a hint that he even had a temper.

“Yes. I’ll be fine. Off you go.” Regina shooed the girl away with her free hand and wondered what the hell to do with the heart. Could she get it into the drawer where it was usually stashed without him seeing? He prowled closer to the desk.

Hmm, probably not.

Julie closed the doors quietly behind herself and left Regina alone with her Huntsman.

Well, he certainly looked more like the Huntsman now than he had in years. He prowled back and forth in front of the desk, studying her with glittering green eyes and pupils that flashed silver in the shadows he passed through. She frowned at his behaviour and settled for dropping the heart onto the floor. She let it roll down her leg and off her foot so as to disguise the thud of it meeting the carpet and he watched her intently.

“Well?” He demanded suddenly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why do you look so nervous?” Regina straightened in her seat and threw her shoulders back, arching a brow at him.

He growled.

“Enough of the bravado, what is it?”

“Well, if you would sit like a civil human being then maybe we could have one of those conversations I’ve heard so much about. All the rage in modern society if the rumour mills are to be believed.”

Graham dragged a chair back from the desk and thudded down into it, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly.

“I…” Regina stalled suddenly, unaccustomed to being hurried into anything.

She set the pace. She was never late, she arrived when she wanted to, she spoke when she had all her words lined in a neat row and now…now he was heckling her. Was it any wonder she said what she did?

“I’m going to be a mother.”

Graham went completely still and stared at her. His mouth opened and then clipped shut and then he suddenly shot out of his chair. He rounded the desk in three giant steps and gripped her by the hand, hauling her up out of the chair and into his hold. He settled a hand on each side of her slim waist and stared down into her eyes.

She was about to yell at him when that gaze found hers and the venom died into nothing on her tongue. She knew of few creatures that could summon such power into a single look and she had been unaware, up until that moment, that the Huntsman had been one of them.

She could only look away after he dropped his gaze and stared down at her middle, he turned her a little, into the light streaming in through the window, and frowned at her flat stomach.

“You’re certain?” His voice was so quiet that she couldn’t hear a single inflection in it. It took a long moment for the words to sink in and their meaning to filter through to her.

“Oh!” She shook her head wildly. “No. No, no, no, no. No.”

He frowned down at her.

“I’m not pregnant.” Her hand rested over her shirtfront and she felt suddenly exposed. “I’m…I’ve started adoption proceedings. I thought…I should…tell…you.”

Her confidence faltered under the hard – _hard_ \- stare he levelled at her.

“You thought you should tell me.” His hands dropped from her waist. His voice was devoid of emotion still and his face completely unreadable.

He couldn’t do that. Not with her. Never with her. He’d never been able to hide what he was feeling from her. Ever.

“Evidently.” She was confused.

This was a new beast that she had been confronted with. Not the Huntsman, he was decidedly more effusive in his actions. No, this had to be a side to Graham that she had never seen before.

“Adoption.” His voice remained flat.

“Yes, I’ve started the application process.” Well, she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that she’d hired Gold to find her a child.

“Right.” Graham turned from her and returned to his side of the desk and thumped down into his seat again. Staring at nothing and waiting for her to do the same. Regina carefully sat, not knowing what he was about to do. He seemed outwardly calm but she knew there was something going on under the surface. Something coiled and ready to spring.

“Are you…alright?” She hazarded after a moment.

“I don’t know. Am I?” Graham’s flint hard gaze lanced her and she nearly flinched. “I mean…is it because you technically outrank me? Because you’re afraid to go public about us?”

Regina frowned, caught off guard and opened her mouth to retort but he steamrolled on.

“ _Don’t_ say there isn’t an ‘us’ because it’s MY back that bears the marks of your clawing. It’s MY teeth that brand your breasts. It’s MY name you scream at night. I’M the only one you cook for. That you laugh with. ME. Not Sidney. Not George. Not any of the other men that pant after you like leashed hounds. ME.”

“You dare…?!”

“Of course I bloody dare!” Graham thundered at her, surging to his feet. “You’re mine and I’m yours and we are _something_. Could you not have at least TOLD me that you wanted children?! Did I not deserve to be brought into the loop a little sooner than ‘oh, by the way, the baby arrives in the mail tomorrow’?”

“Graham!” Regina was shocked.

She’d be angry in a second but she was more dumbfounded than anything else. She hadn’t thought him capable of this depth of… _feeling_. Especially with his heart lying under her desk rather than in his chest where it belonged.

“What? WHAT?!” Graham threw his arm wide. “You think I wouldn’t, that I couldn’t, step up? I have given you _everything_ you’ve ever asked of me and you really think that I wouldn’t have given you a child as well?”

Regina was aware that her mouth was hanging open and she clicked it suddenly and violently shut lest she catch flies. Her eyes were wide and she could feel that her face was going pale. This was not going at ALL how she had thought it would.

She had thought –in all honesty- that he would smile, nod and congratulate her then trot off to do whatever it was he did all day when he wasn’t making her life easier.

Well, he certainly wasn’t making it easier now.

“You couldn’t…” She tried to get the words out but they stuck on her tongue.

“Why? Because I’m not worth you?” Graham prowled around the desk again, looming over her. “Is that what this is really about? That I’m good enough so long as it’s just you that knows? So long as you don’t have to admit to anyone that you actually give a damn about someone? So long as you get to keep up the marble hard bitch façade?”

Graham’s hand manacled around her wrist before she could even get close enough to slap him.

Even then, incensed as he quite evidently was, he didn’t hurt her. His hold was gentle but immovably strong.

“Well, at least now I know that you care enough to hurt me. This conversation has taught me nothing but that.” He dropped her hand and turned away, ready to storm out of her office and she moved without meaning to.

“Graham,” her hand found his wrist and he stopped cold but he didn’t turn to look back at her, “I…the fault is not with you. The way things work here means that we couldn’t have children.”

He snapped back around to stare down at her, silver sparking in his eyes like lightning.

“The way things work here…” He ground the words out from behind clenched teeth and hauled his wrist from her grasp.

She staggered the move was so violent but –even though he was so mad at her he was shaking- he caught her before she could fall and steadied her.

“Yes, I can see that now.” His voice was so cold it would not have been out of place in the Arctic. “The way things work.”

“Graham, you don’t understand, I…” Regina clicked her teeth shut when he leaned in nose to nose with her with an expression so fierce she thought he might bite her.

“I am _worth_ you.”

Regina could only blink at that and he had spun away from her in the time it took to do it.

“Graham!”

“Excuse me, Madame Mayor, but I do believe I need to go and get drunk.” Graham threw open the doors to her office and stormed out of them without a backwards glance.

Regina gaped.

How DARE he?!

She stood like that for a long moment, staring at the doors as they slowly swung closed. He had…that _brute_. She’d make him PAY for speaking to her in such a manner. She was going to drag him back here kicking and screaming if she had to.

Regina spun, marching back to the desk and looking under it. She saw the heart throbbing there. Pulsing a much brighter colour than usual. An indigo cloud of purple roiling within it, flashes of almost white blue streaking inside it.

Perhaps she’d crush it.

There were others, after all. Even her Huntsman could be replaced.

She discounted the notion immediately and didn’t trouble herself with the reason why. The surety that the very same crushing fate would have befallen any other one of her subjects that had spoken to her in such a manner whilst she held their heart did not enter into her head. She was so _mad_ at him.

Regina dropped to a crouch, picked up the heart and stood again.

She was halfway to her feet before the pain registered and she gasped, dropping the heart out of reflex. It tore away from her flesh, hitting the floor, a layer of her skin flaking from it like snow.

Regina’s mouth was open on a silent scream and she clutched at the wrist of her burned hand as if to stem the pain from rolling up her arm in nauseating waves. She watched it roll in a drunken wobble across the floor and stared at the vapour that rose from it.

Cold. It was freezing.

It was so cold that it had burned her just as fiercely as a red hot coal would have.

Regina looked down at her hand. Her palm and fingers turned a chapped and angry red. She hissed out a breath and stared at the heart again.

What the hell?

Regina prowled after the heart and –carefully- prodded it with her foot.

Nothing happened. Well, it wobbled a little, but that was it.

Crouching down, Regina cautiously reached out and tapped at it. Still cold, very cold, but not the burning cold that it had been moments before. Still, cold enough not for her to risk holding. She had no desire to lose any of her fingers to frostbite. Regina rose to her feet, cradling her injured hand still, and tugged her blazer from the back of her chair. Prowling back to the heart, she bundled it into her suit jacket and lifted it, studying it intently.

Sadness.

Regina was very nearly bowled over by the crushing wave of grief that washed over her. Emanating from the heart. His heart. It felt it, all of it, still. Even though it wasn’t in his chest anymore, his heart felt what he was supposed to…though he had certainly given a pretty accurate impression of being pissed as all hell a few minutes ago.

…which pulsed from the heart as well.

Regina pondered it. Through the muffling of her jacket, she could actually identify the individual emotions that poured from the heart with such an intensity that it clouded the air around it with a frigid mist. Sadness, anger, pain…they poured from it in waves with a strength and depth that she had thought only herself capable of.

She knew from personal experience that hearts that felt such things so strongly usually drove their owners mad. Quite mad.

Regina slowly stood, cradling his heart once more, her anger forgotten in the face of his quite evident pain. She had never really been confronted with it before.

Oh, yes, he had cried out if she had hurt him. Snarled a growl of agony once he had become accustomed to the rougher aspects of her play but she had never been quite so aware of how deeply and truly she was capable of hurting him. Tormenting him, yes, twisting him, yes, making him like her, absolutely…but this was…this was low. Even for her.

Staring down at the blue throbbing heart, Regina felt something nasty turn over in her chest. Something coil around her own heart and squeeze with an icy pressure.

She had never really thought that he had deserved her but it was only now that she realised what she had meant every time the notion had crossed her mind.

No more.

No more summoning. No more forcing him to do her bidding. He was malleable enough as it was here. He wasn’t the Huntsman, not anymore. She didn’t need his heart shaped leash to keep him in line.

Regina walked over to her jacket hanging on the peg by the door and carefully put the icy heart into the pocket. She shook the frost from her blazer and resigned herself to it being rumpled for the rest of the day.

She’d take it to her vault tonight. She’d put it back in its box alongside all the others and she’d leave him alone for a while.

Maybe if she left him long enough, he’d forget. He’d forget how…cruel she was.

Regina took her blazer back to her desk and tossed it over the chair again. She prowled about the office for a while, trying to wind herself down from the pounding in her veins and finally halted in front of the window. She hugged her arms about her middle and stared down at her apple tree in the gardens beyond.

She frowned. Someone was down there.

Stepping closer to the window, Regina peered down at the interloper.

He was huge. Built big and broad. He stepped out from behind the shield of the tree trunk so she could see him to about the waist, his top half obscured by the leaves and branches of the tree. He wore heavy leather boots, blue canvas trousers and a gigantic axe dangled from one hand.

Regina’s eyes widened in shock and outrage. He wouldn’t. Nobody would.

Nobody would _dare_.

Regina was about to spin, to march out there and tear him a new one when she glared at the branches to where she thought his head might be on the other side and saw him _looking back_.

Regina froze, her insides going cold when she met those eyes. If they could be called such.

Nothing.

Darkness.

He had no eyes, just black pits in his head where they should be. She couldn’t see anything else, couldn’t focus on any other part of his face if it was even visible through the verdant leaves of the tree. Just black, soulless, eyes boring into her. Looking _through_ her like she was nothing. It was a gaze that cleaved clean through her and five miles out the other side.

It was without looking away that he lifted the axe and –with a contemptuous flick- buried it into the body of the tree.

Regina shrieked in pain when a matching wound erupted in her middle. She doubled over unnaturally sideways, a great tear rent into her side. Flesh split apart like a burst overripe tomato, crimson splattered over the floor along with something that looked like it should definitely still be inside her and Regina crumpled to the floor.

The pain was just this side of beyond her comprehension. It took up her entire world, this new plane of existence that was agony, and she gasped, choking on red. Her numb fingers slithered through the meat on the floor that had once been her midsection and she tried dumbly to put it back together. God, she didn’t even know where anything was supposed to go.

Something hooked under her shoulder and she screamed a ragged wheeze when she was flipped onto her back. Her eyes going wide when she saw the axe swinging over her neck like a pendulum.

She forced herself to look up, to see beyond the blade, and gargled something that might have been a question or perhaps a curse when she saw those same pitiless black eyes. It was _him_. He had done this to her.

She still couldn’t see his face, she was dying, everything popping in and out of focus, but she could see those eyes. Those eyes of nothing.

The axe rose, catching the light through the window, and swung down at her face.

 

_**Now…** _

 

Regina awoke violently, biting back the scream burning to get out of her throat and trying to haul her hands up over her face to shield herself from an axe that wasn’t there.

It was long pounding moments for her to completely pull herself free of the nightmare. She shivered and twitched in that time, chest heaving, the pain beneath her sternum and all too uncomfortable link to the very real pain she had been subjected to in the nightmare.

What the hell had that been?

Dreams didn’t _hurt_. At least, they shouldn’t but her side ached. Not the sharp pain of having a blade buried there –something she was now intimately familiar with- but a dull throbbing ache.

She couldn’t stop her chest heaving. She was panicked, her chest hurt with every breath, which made her panic more at the reminder of the dream, which made her breathe harder which made her hurt more…it was Graham that saved her.

“Ssshhh…” His deep voice rumbled in her ear and she stilled abruptly.

She took in her very real situation immediately and it was debatable as to whether or not it was worse than the nightmare.

Graham was wrapped around her in bed.

The man who hated her, who wanted to torture her, and he was coiled about her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then again, considering how they had spent the last thirty odd years with one another, perhaps it was. More natural to them than either of them waking up alone at any rate.

Her pillow was his bicep, the heat of him at her back was like a furnace, one of his legs was thrown over hers and his arm was looped over the slim curve of her waist. His hand stroking idle circles over her stomach. Circles that were winding lower and lower…

“Graham…” It was probably best to wake him before he fell into other old habits.

Sheet ripping morning sex being one of them. They hadn’t done that since before Henry.

Regina scowled at the yes vote her body put in towards that proposal and she lifted her head, intending to turn and speak louder, wake him that way.

His teeth scraped her neck and she whimpered in an entirely programmed response. He loved to bite and she loved to be bitten. It had been an affectionate little nip, barely enough to bruise, but it still had her shivering.

“Graham.” She tried to make her voice firmer, to get through to him before he did something they’d both regret, but it came out breathy and just this side of a groan.

He growled, nuzzling his nose into her soft hair, nibbling at her ear. His arm tightened over her hips, dragging her back towards him so she was flush against him. He rolled his hips against her ass and she could feel that –whilst he wasn’t quite awake himself- certain parts of him were definitely up.

He’d always been like this. It must be some kind of pulley. The sun came up and so did he. Not that she’d ever complained before but things weren’t exactly simpatico between them at the moment.

“Graham, you need to…” Regina’s words choked off when his fingers slid up over her stomach and the skin there tightened in anticipation of what she knew he was after.

His fingers trailed over the gauze pad taped to her chest and he went completely still.

She knew then that he was completely awake and his hand, rather than snatching away, settled completely over the pad. The heat of his palm seeping through the bandaging and soothing her more than any of the drugs Whale had prescribed her.

“Did I hurt you?” He drew his head away from her neck and let it thump down onto his pillow and she shook her head, not quite up to words right then. She was more focussed on trying to get her body to stand down.

A difficult task considering his seemed to be having the same problem and his hard cock was still prodding her back rather insistently.

“Regina, did I hurt you?”

“No.” Regina croaked. “I’m fine.”

“Aside from pre-existing colander impersonations.” He murmured wryly and slowly and carefully disentangled himself from about her.

“Yes, well, I don’t think that was entirely my fault either.” She was finally managing to get herself under control.

It was awful. She was so used to being able to let go around him. When he was there, in her bed, she didn’t have to pretend. She could act on how she felt and –now- she couldn’t even sleep without having to be on guard for what he might see in her. The one person she had thought would always be loyal to her, because he had no choice…and now he had the choice.

So why hadn’t he betrayed her?

“Come on, it’s going to take us forever to do anything.” Graham sat up and tugged the sheets back from her. “Good god, woman, what did you do?!”

Regina twisted to look at him and winced when the throb in her side intensified. It was so powerful that she even forgot about the wound in her chest for a moment.

“Did I…?” Graham’s hand came down tentatively on her side and Regina looked down, her eyes widening when she saw the massive welt striped over her side.

She felt Graham trace his fingers incredibly gently over it from one end to the other and realised that it curved completely around her. From her navel on her front to her spine on her back…matching the wound she had suffered in the nightmare.

“No. It wasn’t you.” Regina accepted his help to sit up. It was either that or remain there for the rest of the day. “I must have done it when I was leaning on something yesterday. The painkillers I’m on, did Whale not say that they were blood thinners?”

Graham’s eyes raised from their inspection of her middle, his fingers still tracing the angry red line marking her skin. He looked at her for a long and hard moment.

“It would mean that I would bruise at the least provocation…you’ve kept your word. You haven’t hurt me.” Yet. “You could put on some coffee.”

“I could.” He continued to study her skin and then his fingers traced back up to the bandaged pad on her front. He frowned when he saw the pink stain there.

“It’s normal. We both know that wounds seep.” Regina’s nose wrinkled in distaste. She had forgotten how disgusting killing could be.

Satisfying, certainly, but there was only so much bodily fluids a woman could stand before her first cup of coffee in the morning.

He grunted in the back of her throat and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was why they’d had morning sex so often in the past. It was his preferred method of communication before noon. Luckily for her.

Well, it had been.

“Coffee?” She tried to brighten her tone and he narrowed his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I really do not need the indignity of being escorted to the bathroom on top of everything else.” She decided she gained nothing from lying and he smirked at her.

“Very well.” He rolled out of the bed and prowled around to her side, helping her to stand and shepherding her towards the en suite door. Then –without any warning at all- he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slid them down from the curve of her hips so that they dropped to the floor and pooled over her feet.

“Graham!” Regina turned to look at him, glaring fiercely and found him enjoying the view. He smirked.

“What? You’d only have hurt yourself had you had to bend to take them off.” He shrugged and then turned, heading for the door. “Coffee coming right up.”

Regina watched him go and growled low in her throat. So, torture it was.

Regina’s jaw clenched and she bared her teeth in a savage grin.

Two could play at that game.

 

**_Downstairs…_ **

 

Graham was being domestic and it was a new and somewhat alien experience for him.

“Say when.” Graham scrubbed a hand over his face and poured the milk for Henry the boy told him when it was enough and then he sloshed more of it over his own breakfast.

Not quite the eggs benedict and homemade bread toast that Regina could whip up but she couldn’t even lift her arms over her head right now, never mind cook for them all. Judging by the way Henry was prodding at his cereal, he was lost in similar thoughts.

Graham took his own seat at the island worktop and studied Henry like he was a new creature he had discovered. Not entirely untrue. He had known about Henry in theory –as it were- observed him from a distance since he hadn’t been allowed to play a larger part in the boy’s life.

It struck Graham only then, now that he remembered everything, that had Regina been different, made a slightly different decision, Henry might well have called Graham ‘dad’.

“What?”

Graham blinked at the question.

“You’re staring. Do I have Lucky Charms in my teeth?” Henry bared all his teeth as if for Graham to check in a broad and cheesy grin and Graham smirked.

“Not so loud. Your mum isn’t supposed to know, remember?” Graham winked at him and shovelled some of his own Charms into his mouth. He winced at the taste.

By the Greenman, they were awful.

Henry grinned like the good little co-conspirator he was and stuffed more cereal into his mouth. He munched happily for a moment and then blurted out the question that seemed to take both of them by surprise.

“How long have you been with my mom?”

Well, now how was he supposed to answer that? About thirty five years, give or take. What? I look no older than that myself? Hmm, that IS strange, isn’t it? Graham very nearly rolled his eyes at himself at such nonsense and he scraped his fingernails through the growth of stubble over his jaw and mulled it over.

“Since before you were born.” Graham shrugged a shoulder and stuck with as much of the truth as he could. “I’m not sure exactly how long, but a long, long time. Feels like we’ve never been apart sometimes.”

“Oh.” Henry looked down at his cereal and thought about it for a long moment. Warring with himself. He looked back up at Graham.

“You thinking about the curse again?” Graham reached out and poured his cereal over the top of Henry’s. He’d sooner eat nails than finish it.

“Yeah.”

“Your book says the Huntsman hated the Queen because she trapped him, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Henry looked miserable and Graham huffed out a breath.

“Hate’s a strange thing, Henry. It doesn’t always mean what we think it means and –even if we think we hate someone- it’s usually because we really can’t stand the part of ourselves that we see in them.”

Henry frowned down at the milky soup that was his dissolving cereal and splashed his spoon in the mix.

“I thought the Huntsman was a good guy.” Henry looked up at him. “You’re a good guy.”

Graham smirked and nodded at the compliment.

“What about your mum, she’s not evil, is she?”

“Not…here.” Henry hedged and Graham nodded.

“So maybe your book is wrong about some things.” Graham held up his hand when Henry opened his mouth to so stridently defend his precious book. “It doesn’t tell the whole story in the least.”

Henry looked down.

“I guess not.” He fidgeted with his breakfast a moment more. “Graham?”

“Yeah?” Graham got up to pour himself a coffee.

Her ladyship would be down the stairs demanding some in a moment. He’d heard the shower shut off a while ago. There was only so long she could spend primping. She knew they had to take the boy to school.

He fetched two mugs down from the cupboard.

“Do you love my mom?”

Graham lost control of one of the mugs and he had to fumble and catch it no less than three times before he had a good grip on it. He turned to look at Henry, like a deer in headlights.

“What?”

“You’re the Huntsman, and mom is the Evil Queen, but you’re Graham and she’s Regina too so…do you love the part of her that’s my mom?”

Graham blinked for long moments and turned away, staring at the coffee pot. Searching for the answer. His heart, the half that had been newly returned to him, fair screamed the answer at him and his hand shook when he picked up the coffee pot and poured two mugs of it.

“Graham, are you…?”

“Aye.” Graham turned again and looked down at Henry, clutching his coffee mug in his hand. “I do. In my way.”

And the knowledge horrified him.

Not only that, but her deathbed confession…she had said exactly the same thing he had. She loved him, in her way. They loved one another. In their way. What the hell was their way? Aside from royally fucked up that was.

“Wow, mom!” Henry straightened in his seat, grinning. “You look so pretty.”

“Oh, thank you, honey.” Regina walked into the kitchen a trifle slower than she usually would have had she been completely recovered but the effect was not lessened on Graham in the slightest.

He choked on his coffee and stared at the dress she had chosen to wear.

That dress.

It was a pale yellow colour, decorated with deep red cherries on the fabric. The bodice was tight and low enough at the back to show that she wore nothing beneath it. Held up only through the dint of the ties that were bowed at the nape of her neck. The skirt was flared, made fuller by the ruffled underskirts beneath it that rustled slightly when she walked.

He remembered the rustling as an accompaniment to his heavy breathing, her gasping mewls and the explosion of fireworks overhead. The last time she had worn that dress, it had been the Fourth of July firework celebration and she’d had him fuck her right there and then in the middle of the park with the nearest bystander not twenty feet away.

That had been just last year.

Regina circled around Henry and dropped a kiss on top of his head. She looked up at him with a smirk and he realised what she was about.

So, it was to be war.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Marked**

 

**_The Enchanted Forest, Then…_ **

 

 

The Huntsman’s eyes did not snap open when he thought he heard something.

Instead, he only parted his lips to breathe through his mouth and hear it less and raised his head from the pillow of the Queen’s chest.

His eyes opened last, the colour of frosted green leaves, and he scanned the room thoughtfully.

The evidence of the Queen’s play the night before was plain

. His clothes had been shredded, by magic and –as her focus had deteriorated from what she’d had him do to her- by hand or knife. He bore shallow cuts from where her aim had faltered due to a lick here or a bite there. Bruises matching the span of her fingers marked his shoulders, hips and back.

The sheets were torn from her clawing fingers, scorched in places from magic, blood from bites spotted them, the candelabra on the table beside her bed had been knocked over, he had smashed the mirror there with a kick of his foot for he did not want to be watched by the spirit within.

He would pay for that dearly.

Still, none of that was unusual, what had woken him?

After a night like last night, he would usually sleep until well past dawn and she would allow it for she did not want to break her favourite toy, but dawn was nothing but a lilac idea on the horizon beyond the window.

The Huntsman pondered it. Something had certainly wakened him. He slept like the dead with the warmth of a body beside him. Even if she was a hateful abomination of a woman –the act of sleeping with company reminded him of his pack’s den.

Glancing down at the Queen, he studied her. She lay on her back, curled against him, one hand had been buried in his hair but had slipped away when he had raised his head and now was curled around his shoulder. Her other arm was curled up around her head, those fingers tangled in her own hip length raven hair. She wore a gown of white. Sheer silk that did very little to hide the bounty that lay beneath.

The Queen may well be a monster, but she was a comely one.

Still, he liked her best when she was asleep. Not only because it meant she wasn’t about to torment him but because she looked softer. Younger. They were the same age, he thought, but it did not show until she was without the war mask of her kohl rimmed eyes, the blood red paint of her mouth or the sharp clothes she wore for the world at large.

What _had_ awoken him?

The Queen’s eyes snapped open half a moment before his answer literally burst screaming through the door.

“DEATH TO THE PRETENDER!”

The Huntsman flipped over onto his back and took stock of the situation even as he rolled to a crouch at the end of the bed.

A group of over half a dozen men had kicked the doors off their hinges and stormed the Royal bedchamber. They each held weapons; knives, clubs and swords. Well made. Their faces were young, their clothes expensive.

Idealists. Rich. Aristocracy.

Idiots.

Still, they were idiots intent on murder and the Queen and Huntsman both were without clothes never mind weapons.

Besides, the Huntsman had _views_ on murder before even breakfast.

With a roar, the Huntsman surged to his feet on the mattress of the bed and launched himself at the foremost of the mob. He flew through the air, batted the boy’s sword away with a rap of his knuckles on the flat of the blade and gripped the boy’s face in both hands. He swung his legs out, wrenching his body to the side and landed behind the boy. There was a tearing crackling sound and the boy fell stone dead to the marble floor.

His head had been cranked so far around by the Huntsman’s attack that it now faced completely the wrong way.

The Huntsman wasted no time in admiring his handiwork and tackled the next lad around the middle, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the boy directly behind. There was a meaty sound of a friend’s knife being buried in someone’s flesh. A wet cough over the Huntsman’s head from the boy he held and he crushed them both to the floor.

The Huntsman straddled the first lad’s chest, crouched over both of them, gripped his head, lifted it and used it to beat the other boy about the face with his comrade’s skull.

The Huntsman snarled when a blade ripped across his back but he had been with the Queen for a while and they would have to do better than such a little lovebite to keep the Huntsman down.

He bounded off his latest victims and his hands curled into claws, his lips peeling back over sharp white teeth. His eyes gleamed, pupils reflecting eerily silver in the dim light and a low and terrible snarl rumbled from his chest and thundered through the room.

One of them came at him with a mace, a weapon they had not been trained how to use, and the Huntsman easily dodged.

He ducked in, wrapping his arm around the younger man’s and wrenching until something popped and the boy gave a ragged scream.

His friends rushed to help him at such a panicked sound of agony and that was their last mistake.

The Huntsman’s hand lashed out, his thumb finding the corner of the boy’s eye socket and gouging deep. He pushed hard until something popped wetly over his hand and the boy went slack in his hold. With that as a firm handhold, the Huntsman hauled and slammed the lad’s corpse bodily into his comrades.

There was a symphony of grunts and gasps of horror as they all tumbled to the floor under the weight of their dead friend.

In the lull that granted him, the Huntsman darted to the corpse of one he had already felled and lifted a stiletto blade and a short sword from his belt. So armed, he turned to face the rest of the party.

“We’ll kill you too, beast.” One of the men snarled.

The Huntsman’s growl was bigger and it showed in the whites of his opponent’s eyes.

“Growl like the animal you are. We are men willing to die for the cause not for the want of a witch.” The man spat. His companions flanking him darted a look at one another. It was quite clear that they would much rather survive but had no idea how.

The Huntsman’s lip curled in contempt. There was nothing to say as far as he was concerned. Words were useless when there was blood in the offing.

“Die!” The leader of the remaining three attackers launched himself at the Huntsman, sword upraised in both hands, swinging powerfully down with enough force to rip the Huntsman from stern to stem.

The sword made a rattling clang when it hit the marble flooring and the Huntsman was so close to the boy that he felt the wet spatter of blood on his face when the lad wheezed his last breaths.

The Huntsman tackled him full on, a blade in each hand, and found both of the lad’s lungs with them. He snarled with the effort, sliding the now stunned man back several paces, and his shoulders bunched with a strength that was horrifying. The Huntsman’s snarl grew into a growl when his arms flexed. He hoisted the boy up by the blades buried in his chest, his toes scuffing off the floor, blood raining down on the Huntsman.

The growl rumbling like thunder from within the Huntsman’s chest grew to a roar and then a haunting howl. He wrenched both arms wide and tore both blades from his victim’s torso with enough force to nearly cut him in half. Blood splattered down over the Huntsman’s head and shoulders. The corpse fell to the floor with a meaty thud and split completely apart.

The Huntsman rounded on the last two and their eyes were wide, staring at this blood painted horror that prowled ever closer to them. Low snarls rumbling from within his chest, his dark hair plastered to his head by blood, the whites of his strange eyes burning from within that red mask. He was no man. He was a monster. “Mercy!” The first shrieked and cast his weapon down on the floor.

“Mercy!” His companion threw his arms down a half moment later and they both fell to their knees. Begging for their lives.

The Huntsman growled, advancing, sword and knife raised.

“Wait.”

He froze like her words were connected to his bones and they might well have been.

“If you kill them all, we’ll never find out who sent them.” The Queen slid down off the bed, tousling her long hair as if she hadn’t been so rudely awakened.

She fisted the skirts of her long gown in one hand and daintily picked her way through the blood spatter. The Huntsman lowered his blades and tilted his head, considering the men that had so rudely awakened him.

The Queen stood at his side, measured the path of the blood dripping down over the serrated lines of the Huntsman’s naked body. Her lips kicked in something of a smirk and she turned back to her guests.

“Majesty!” The palace guard arrived with a clatter and it was only then that the Queen realised how little time had passed.

It had been all of two minutes since the doors had been flung open and they had been first attacked. Not a bad response time considering there were no guards on this floor, only the ones above and below. She liked her privacy.

Looking back at her Huntsman…well, where most are concerned.

“All is well. Take them away.” She waved at the corpses littering the floor and her guard recovered themselves quickly, rushing to do her bidding. She reached over and tapped a finger onto a survivor’s nose with a smirk. “Put him in the dungeon, I shall see him at my leisure. Throw the other from the ramparts.”

The guards were smart enough not to ask questions and gathered up the dead men and the remaining survivors. The one who had been sentenced to a plummeting death screaming and struggling but it was an act ignored by everyone. He was quickly stifled.

The guards were no stranger to the wroth of the Huntsman. He was the Queen’s favoured weapon, after all. The man closest to her in all things. Considering how formidable she was just by being, the fact that she relied on the Huntsman to guard her spoke volumes of him.

Volumes of blood if the repainting of the floor was to be believed.

All too soon the Huntsman was left alone with the Queen and he braced himself for whatever she might do. He had no idea how she might react to having been attacked, no matter that he had thrown them off. She was mad. She could not be predicted.

The Queen appeared to ignore him, still hitching her skirts up out of the blood, she picked her way to the centre of the room and held out her free hand, spinning on her heel in a tight circle.

Magic washed out from her, sweeping the room clean of the blood and destruction. From the attack and from their bedplay the night before, she erased it all. In fact, the only thing that looked like it had witnessed a bloodbath was the Huntsman himself. He still slowly dripped blood. It had travelled as low as his hips now, in seeping rivulets that crept over his skin with an insidious slither.

She stood with her back to him for a long moment and finally turned to look at him with a thoughtful expression on her face. The Huntsman tensed and it did not lessen when a slow smile spread across her mouth.

“Seven men, fully armed –and clothed for that matter- and they barely made it in the door.” Her voice was thoughtful. “Impressive, even by your standards.”

The Huntsman didn’t know what was safe to say so he kept his silence.

“The truly impressive thing,” she held up a finger padding closer to him, her sheer gown rippling, “is that you did it all of your own volition.”

The Huntsman did open his mouth then and stalled.

She smiled…and it was a smile. Not a smirk or a cruel grin, but a smile.

“I gave no order to protect me. Did not hasten you to kill them. You simply acted in my defence of your own free will.” She stepped closer to him, studying his face. “Fascinating.”

“You would have ordered it of me anyway. Had I waited…it might not have gone so favourably for me.”

“Hmm, would I?” She tilted her head and prowled around him, studying him from every angle. “I do like a bit of murder in the morning. Are you certain I would not have simply roasted them all alive and save you the leg work?”

“I…” The Huntsman looked down at the blades in his hands, stained red with the lifeblood of so many.

“Worry not, dear Huntsman, for I would have ordered it of you.” She smiled and reached out tracing her finger over his flank, running the tip of her nail parallel to a drip of blood. “Though the mess is something I had not anticipated…”

“Apologies.”

“No need.” She lifted her head from inspecting the sharp bone of his hip and the cobbled muscles of his stomach. She looked up at him from under hooded lashes. “Come.”

She spun away from him suddenly and strode away across the pristine floor that the Huntsman ruined with his bloodied footprints.

With a single wave of her hand, the Queen summoned the doors to the humungous bathroom open before she reached them and he could already hear thunderous water filling the sunken tub in the middle of the room.

Tub was inaccurate, it was more a pool. Nearly ten paces across and rapidly filling with milky steaming water. Candles melted into the edges of the pool flared to life with sparks and sputters from their tallow.

The Huntsman stood uncertainly, eying her as she moved to one of the cabinets stationed about the room and began to rummage. He stiffened when she extracted several vials and bottles, holding them up to the light and humming in her throat. She pursed her lips and then turned to the water, upending one after the other into the steaming froth of the filling pool. She carefully added just a drop from the third bottle and then stowed them all carefully away again.

A flick of her fingers and the Queen commanded the water to cease filling the tub. Water still poured into it but at a steady trickle that drained away just as quickly. The mix of hot water white from mineral springs clouded together with the cooler water from an underground spring beneath the castle. He could see the current gently moving from one side of the pool to the other in a twisting helix of dark and pale waters. The pool seemed alive, breathing, water lapping at the rippled wax of the ring of candles that surrounded it.

The Queen turned to him expectantly.

“Well?”

“I…in there?”

“Yes.” She smiled, and it was a genuine smile again. “You’ve earned it.”

The Huntsman eyed the water. She insisted that he bathe regularly, she was very particular about the kind of filth he was steeped in at any given time but dirt was never one of them. He usually bathed in a river in the forest. To better keep his scent blended with that of the land about him.

“Come.” The Queen stepped into the pool herself when he seemed to hesitate again. She held out her hand to him and –warily- he padded forward and took it in his own.

She didn’t flinch at the blood that smeared over her perfect skin because of its stain on him. She led him deeper into the pool instead.

Her silk gown billowed and rippled in the water, trailing over the surface after her, clinging to his flank when he waded into the waist deep pool alongside her.

The water was hot but not painfully so. At least, not where it didn’t find every bruise and nick that he had taken in the fight. The water smelled faintly of mint or something similar and the wounds he had won burned cold in reaction to whatever she had added to it.

“Now, let me look at you.” The Queen halted him in the middle of the pool and turned to regard him thoughtfully. She studied the cloud of pink that trailed from him and then her eyes tracked hungrily up over the hard lines of his body to his chest.

She frowned at the dripping crimson that covered him and then fisted her hand in her gown. She dragged it up out of the water, gripped it in both hands and then shredded a hank away from the skirts.

The Huntsman blinked at that, nearly flinching at the sharp sound of sodden fabric ripping. That gown had been worth its weight in gold and she had shredded it like it was less than paper.

Dunking the fistful of white silk into the water, she lifted it with both hands, stepping closer to him, stretched up onto her toes and wrung it out over his head. The Huntsman closed his eyes at the hot water with the mint cool tang to it sluice down over his face and splatter over his chest. It ran into his eyes and he automatically jerked, shaking his head like a wet wolf might to clear it from his vision.

She made a small sound of surprise and his eyes flashed open, braced for the punishment.

“Still excitable I see.” The Queen’s voice –far from being angry- was amused and somewhat wry. She lifted her hand and smeared the pink water he had splattered her with from her cheek. “Be still.”

The Huntsman locked his body into statue immovability and watched her with wary eyes when she soaked the cloth she had made of her skirts again and wrung it out over his head once more. He closed his eyes and forced himself to be blinded to her actions.

Again and again, she rinsed him with water from the ruined dress then –gently- wiped the soft and sopping material over his face. Dabbing lightly at a split on his cheekbone, carefully swiping over the delicate skin around his eyes and scrubbing deliciously through the stubble shadowing his jaw.

“You can open your eyes now.” She wasn’t looking at him, having started on his chest. Dipping, rinsing, cleaning, she swiped the blood away. Examined each one of his wounds carefully. The gentle current of the pool washing the blood and sweat away leaving clean skin and water in its wake.

She prowled around him, standing at his back and continued her ritual there too. She hummed when she came across the deep slash over his shoulders. Her fingers traced the edge and he stiffened but she did not scrape at it with her fingernails nor gouge deeper into it with the cloth.

Once she was satisfied that he was clean, she prowled around to see his face again. She looked up at him, her black eyes unreadable and he waited with a coiled tension. What was she going to do?

He blinked and twitched in surprise when she suddenly sank completely beneath the surface of the water. He stared watching her long hair cloud about herself under the water and then she stood just as quickly, shaking her hair back to slap wetly against her back.

She held her jaw oddly and he realised she looked as if she had something in her mouth. She reached up without speaking, gripped his head between her hands and tugged him down closer to her height. She went up on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. The cut on his cheek.

He flinched but she held him tightly when her lips parted against his skin and she revealed her mouth to be filled with magic. It seeped into the wound in a tingling fierce sensation that was…odd. Odd but not painful. She directed his head with her hands, tilting his face so her lips could close over his. She sucked his lower lip, his split lip, between her own and traced her tongue over the cut. He could feel the water in her mouth, magic waters, seeping into the cut.

So she went on.

Each and every one of his wounds was…kissed better.

She had to take from the pool several more times in order to see to every cut, scrape and bruise, but she didn’t appear to mind doing it. Finally she ran her hands over him, front and back, humming in satisfaction when he did not flinch from pain nor could she find a single rupturing of his heated skin. By bruise nor tear.

The Huntsman watched the Queen prowl around him in the water, her dress dragging heavily behind her, studying him from all angles. He was intensely glad that the water rose to his waist as her dress was now completely transparent and his cock was at full attention.

Every jolt of freezing hot magic had lanced him, lighting him up from the inside, and her lips on his skin had seemed to have a direct line to his cock. He’d been painfully hard since she’d first sucked on his lip and he had no idea how she’d react when she found out because it sure as hell didn’t seem to be abating in the slightest.

“All better?” She tilted her head, watching him with those unreadable eyes that glinted gold in the candlelight.

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse. “Thank you, majesty.”

“Not at all. I do like to take care of you.” Her hand traced down over his flank and he shivered at the thrill of sensation that went through him.

Something flickered in her eyes and she snatched her hand away. She turned to go and he stepped towards her without meaning to. Freezing when she turned to regard the motion.

Her head tilted the other way and she blinked, puzzled by something.

The Huntsman froze and hoped she didn’t take offence or all her effort would have been for nothing when she punished him.

“Truly?” The Queen arched a brow and something of a smirk kicked her mouth. She turned to face him completely, inhaling deeply and resting her hand on the curve of her hip. His eyes betrayed him and dropped to study the move with fearsome appreciation. The dress clung to every inch of her. Stuck to her like a second skin. Her nipples were hard and dark through the fabric and he felt a growl rumble deep in his throat.

She chuckled and the bounce it set through her had him tilting towards her again before he could stop himself. He bared his teeth with the effort.

She was Evil. He reminded himself. Evil and horrid and cruel. She was more of a monster than even he was. She was mad. She was…she was…

She was beautiful. She was strong. She could take him at his worst. She never flinched from him.

His tongue traced over his teeth and her eyes hungrily tracked the movement. She smiled, another real smile, and her chin tilted up.

“Go on.” Her voice was quiet. Soft. “Take what you will.”

His hand manacled about her throat without hesitation and –far from fight him, from letting her eyes go wide with fear- she let him haul her close. Up and off her toes and into his hold. His mouth smashed down over hers and his tongue thrust into her mouth unapologetically. He snarled, low and rumbling, and clutched her closer.

The Queen –miles from the marble hard female that ruled the entire realm- whimpered into his mouth and melted against him. She gave way to his every desire, bowing back for him when he loomed over her, craning her neck to give him the unrestricted access he craved for ravaging her mouth.

His hands trailed down her neck, nails scraping her skin, catching on the straps of her gown like claws. With a savage yank and a growl, he tore it. Savaging the silk with a gleeful relish. He ripped it away from her, in jolts and tugs, baring more of her slick skin to his touch with every handful of ruined silk.

She twisted helpfully, wriggling free of the cloying material until she was naked in his arms and it was all miles of naked skin on skin contact. They were both wet from the bath, slipping and sliding against one another.

Their kisses were hungry, sucking and biting. He ravaged her mouth, burying one hand into the heavy mass of her hair and angling her mouth under his so that the angle pleased him best.

And she let him.

She let him have his way with her. She didn’t flinch or cower or wince when so much blood had painted him just minutes before. She didn’t care that he’d killed half a dozen men with his bare hands. She didn’t care about the wolfish nature of him that came howling so readily to the surface with the least provocation.

She _loved_ it.

The queen moaned into his mouth when he slid his hands around the slimming of her waist. Years of wearing corsets had given her middle a waspish cinch to it and years more of riding horses had given her the sleek muscles of a woman with stamina.

Stamina he planned to put to good use.

The Huntsman boosted her up out of the water, those toned legs sliding readily around his hips. She speared her fingers into his hair, clinging to him as they kissed. She made little moaning needy sounds for him that made his cock jump and twitch in anticipation.

He held her effortlessly, she was actually very small, and angled her over his straining cock. He lowered her into the water, his cock pushing against her cunt, the magic waters sloshing and sucking between them.

She tore her mouth from his, panting at the ceiling. She clutched his face between her hands, her long black painted nails scoring through the stubble on his jaw. He nipped and sucked at her fingers when they strayed close enough to his mouth.

“What is your name?”

The Huntsman blinked, looking up at her. She looked back at him, her head tilted to the side, her hair suddenly short.

“Graham, what is your real name?” She frowned at him. “Graham?”

The Huntsman shook his head as if to clear the pounding of his heart from his ears.

“What?”

 

_**The Sheriff’s Station…** _

 

“What is your name?” Regina watched him carefully as if waiting for him to start baying at the moon.

Graham shook his head sharply to dispel the memory that had washed over him so readily. He had glanced at his desk, remembered the other times she had been in his office with him and…why had he thought of _that_ particular tryst back home?

Graham looked back at Regina rather than try and answer the question.

Regina was propped up in the chair in the corner of his office. It usually held up a pile of teetering paperwork that he never quite got around to filing but he had shifted that in favour of parking her in it out of the way. He’d then gone about his day as if she wasn’t there, knowing that being ignored would be the worst torture to weigh on her.

“You know my name.” Graham sat back in his own seat and studied her.

Regina sat back in the chair, files taken from her office that morning spread on her lap, and tried to look like she wasn’t in pain. She was still being stubborn about her medication. Then again, he was being stubborn about it too. This was a distraction for her.

“No, I know the name I gave you, I know the name that others gave you, but not the name you gave yourself.” Regina shifted, trying to ease the discomfort in her chest and stilling when he uncoiled to his feet.

She watched him with big dark eyes as he approached her and then scowled when she realised what he was about. She glared at the pills proffered her and the uncapped bottle of water.

“I don’t…”

“Take them and I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me and I’ll take them.” He smirked and didn’t move.

She would break first. The pain was beginning to make her sweat. She had gone pale and her skin was clammy. Though he supposed his patience might expire before her pain threshold reached its limit.

“Regina,” he put a subtle emphasis on her name but it made her stiffen as if he’d bellowed at her, “take your pills.”

She sucked in a deep breath, paling further at the pain that it had to cause her, and then mulishly accepted the tablets from his palm. She knocked them back and gulped down water to rid herself of the taste of them and then looked back up at him.

“Well?”

“Howl.” Graham turned from her and went back to his desk, flipping open the next file. He began to scan through it and ignored the heavy weight of her glare in the side of his head.

“That’s it?”

Graham shrugged a shoulder.

“Raised by wolves and called Howl…can’t say that your family was a font of great imagination, can we?”

Graham shot her a glare and she smirked.

“I mean, aren’t _all_ wolves called Howl?” Regina waved her hand. “They do know only three or four words after all; ‘grr’, ‘bark’ and ‘howl’. So, is that sort of like being called ‘And’?”

Graham slowly closed the file and turned his full attention to her. He sat and just watched her for the longest time, listening to the feelings leaking from her heart and into his. She was…lonely. Bored, irritated, surly and mean too. Those all went without saying, but she was lonely. He was so close and so far all at the same time and she’d had him on such a short leash for so long that it must be quite the thing for him to suddenly have the ability to go walkabout under his own recognisance.

Regina was often alone, she usually preferred it, he knew that, but there is a difference between being alone and being lonely.

Graham pushed back from his desk again, the wheels of his thirty year old chair creaking and squeaking, and then he scooted himself over to sit right in front of her. He sat so close that he had to part his knees to bracket hers.

“You’re being rude.” He informed her as if she didn’t know.

His hand lifted, stroking imaginary lint from the hem of her skirt. The underskirts rustled and he felt certain parts of him perk up at the memories such sounds evoked. He did not miss the way her pulse quickened or her breath hitched.

At least he wasn’t the only one affected.

“Pots and kettles.” She sniffed at him, trying to be distant despite the way his fingers toyed with the soft skin of her knee. Her feet were tucked up under her, it would be painful to her to unfold so he could have unrestricted access to all the stroking he desired…she very nearly put herself through it. Very nearly. “You’ve been ignoring me all morning.”

“I’ve been working, as have you, had you simply asked for a conversation, I’d have granted you one.”

Her jaw clenched at those words. They’d have spoken if _he’d_ allowed it. She very nearly growled like the predator she was under the skin.

“Would you prefer the request by mail or shall I fill the forms out in triplicate right here and now?”

“No need to get so riled, pet. It’s not like any conversation we’d have would end civilly anyway.”

She opened her mouth to deliver a blistering retort but the hurt dealt by his words caught her before she could. She clicked her teeth together and then looked away from him. Sadness bloomed in her. Guilt. Anguish. Something so deep and rip roaring that he couldn’t even name.

Torture.

“Very well.” Regina turned her attention back to her paperwork. “I apologise for interrupting.”

“Regina?” Graham frowned.

“Go back to your work, Sheriff, I’ve kept you from it long enough.”

“Regina.” Graham’s voice deepened, a growl creeping into it. She was keeping something from him and he needed to know what. “Tell me.”

Regina’s jaw clenched and she huffed out a breath through her nose. She leaned further back in the chair and rubbed absently at her chest, over her heart. She looked discomfited and he could feel the echo of the weighty sensation in her.

“You’re in pain.” He straightened, turning in his chair and intending to reach for the phone and call the hospital. Her hand on his wrist stopped him. Graham turned to look at her and Regina snatched her hand away as if burned.

“I’m fine. Don’t call anyone.”

“Then why the long face?”

“I…” Regina looked down at her papers again and needlessly organised them. “I just…I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t really want anything from you right now.” Graham leaned in towards her again, propping his elbows on his knees. “Except for you to tell me what’s bothering you.”

“What is this? You said it was going to be revenge and –so far- you’ve been obdurately kind. Is it a false sense of security that you’re trying to instil? Are you trying to keep me guessing? Do you even know what you’re doing?” She waved her hand but that was as effusive as she was going to get if she didn’t want to throw up due to the pain of tugging her stitches. “What’s your endgame? Can I at least know that?”

Graham watched her for a long and unblinking moment, his fingers lacing together thoughtfully.

“I want to control you.” He murmured, studying her face.

She looked completely calm and collected. They could have been discussing tax returns for all the enthusiasm her expression conveyed…but he could feel the bolt of sheer terror that went clean through her at those words.

“Not your every move.” He found himself trying to soothe her for some reason. Probably so she would be easier to handle, he told himself. “Nothing like that. I just want you to stop this vendetta against everyone. I want to break the curse and I believe that you’re my best bet of doing it. You’re not exactly champing at the bit to do it yourself so gaining leverage over you is the only way to make it happen.”

Regina looked down and fidgeted with the edge of one of the manila folders in her lap. He listened hard to what she was feeling and very nearly winced at the depths her despair ran to with his words.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

She snorted something like a laugh but still didn’t look up at him. She’d never been afraid to meet his gaze before. Never. Not with anyone in fact. It was a mixture of satisfaction and shame that swirled through him when he realised he had cowed her into it.

“Was it…is it just Howl?” Regina tilted her head, still intensely focussed on the folder. “Did your pack have a name or…?”

“Strange Howl.” Graham decided after a moment. It had been a long time since he’d been called that and never in the language of men. It had been growled at him in so many different ways by so many different wolves but no human had ever known that name.

Why the hell was he telling _her_?

“Strange Howl?” She finally –finally- looked up at him. Graham shrugged and tilted his head. Thinking on how to explain.

“Wolves don’t gain their names until they’re grown. Until they’ve become what they are to be…I was named Strange Howl because my voice changed when I hit puberty and because I learned to speak…human.” Graham’s mouth twisted in something like a smile. Regina reclined back into the chair and rubbed absently at her chest thought the expression on her face was contemplative.

“I wonder what my name would have been?” She spoke mostly to herself and then seemed to realise what she had said and what it had left her open to. Her eyes darted to his, wide and wary, waiting for the insult.

“I don’t know.” Graham shrugged. Not rising to the bait. “It takes a pack to name a wolf. There are no wolves in Storybrooke to ask. No regular wolves anyway. Night Guide is gone…maybe he could have told you.”

“I…” Regina bit her tongue and then looked away from him. She rubbed harder at her chest, deliberately pressing on the stitches until they stung.

He reached out and yanked her hand away. She turned to him with a snarl pressing up behind her teeth and he silenced it with a single flashing look.

“If you pull them, you’re going back.” He softened when she looked away from him again. She was trapped, stuck in this room, this town, this awful situation, with him and escaping his eye contact was the only freedom she now had. He let her have it. For now.

He knew well the agony of imprisonment when all you desired was freedom. She had been his jailor, she had held him captive for so long…but at least she knew how it felt. She had been trapped long before he’d ever known the crush of a cage. Even if he hadn’t been able to see it and the cage itself had often been her arms about him in a bed.

This would all be so much easier if she was enough of a stranger to him so that he could hate her.

“Tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What you were going to say.”

She was mulishly silent for long moments and then shook her head sharply.

“No point.” Her hand turned in his and it was only then he realised he was still holding onto it.

“I think I should decide that.” Her jaw clenched and he felt the buck in her at that. The flash of anger, rage, at being reminded that he owned her. “Tell me, Regina.”

Her fingers curled into his palm, dragging her nails over his skin in a subtle reminder that she could and had torn into him if she wanted to.

“Night Guide is your wolf? The one with the red eye?”

“He was.” Regina still refused to meet his gaze and the words were dragged from her against her better judgement. “He’s not dead.”

She looked down at their hands, held together by his deceptively gentle grip. She knew if he were to squeeze, he could pulverise every single bone in her hand. It was a terrifying mystery to her as to why he had not. Why wouldn’t he if given the chance?

She had hurt him. Every day, every night, for decades she had hurt him. Why wasn’t he tearing her to shreds? Why had he saved her life? Why _really_?

“You told me…”

“Yes, I know, that I’d made a dress of him. A dress I had you remove with your teeth. I lied. He still lives. Rather, I didn’t kill him in the Enchanted Forest.” Regina stared into nothing for long moments.

“I saw him.” Graham frowned and thought it over. Had he really?

“Here?” Regina straightened a little, a frown pulling at her. “Recently?”

“When I was beginning to realise something was wrong with me, that my heart wasn’t where it should be, I saw him. He led me to your vault.”

Regina sat back in her chair with a thump and stared at nothing for a long moment.

“Interesting.” She finally settled on.

“Fascinating.” Graham deadpanned. “Help me find him.”

Her eyes skated to his.

“You must have done something to keep us apart. He wouldn’t leave me to suffer you unless he had to. So undo that piece of magic. Help me find my brother.”

She was frowning at him.

“What?”

“I…didn’t do anything.” Regina slowly shook her head. “I didn’t send him away from you in the first place, I assumed that you had banished him so that I wouldn’t kill him. Fortunate considering that I would have if I could.”

“No. He disappeared and then you told me that you’d killed him. Made that dress out of him.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t the one to make him disappear.”

“You’re lying.” Graham scowled at her even though he knew she wasn’t.

“What reason have I to lie about this?”

“You don’t want me to find him. You don’t want him to help me break the curse.”

“Graham, how can a wolf break this curse?”

“He can see through it in the least.” Graham leaned closer to her, his teeth bared. “Sense when it’s weak in someone, like it was in me.”

“All animals can see through the curse.” Regina huffed out a sigh. “Go to the animal shelter and pick one, it will help you just as much. That is to say, not at all. Animals can’t break curses. They don’t understand them. To hate is a human thing.”

“Well, that’s true.” Graham murmured and subsided a little.

She was telling the truth but the information was perhaps not as useless as she thought it was.

“Do you…you can understand animals, can’t you?”

Regina watched him for a long moment and he knew then that he was right.

“You can. You can speak their languages.”

Regina looked away from him.

“So…were I to pick an animal from the shelter, you could teach me how to talk to it.”

“Why on earth would I do that?”

“This curse is going to break, Regina. One way or another. Curses are made to be broken. You can either live through it with me as an ally or as another enemy.”

Regina’s jaw clenched and she looked away from him once more.

“Think about it; if we go back to the Enchanted Forest when this all comes crashing down and you’re weakened by whatever has to happen to break this curse, don’t you want someone on your side to protect your boy?”

Regina inhaled deeply and closed her eyes when it stung. She let out the breath on a slow sigh.

“My name held as much fear as yours did. People would think thrice before risking my wrath to hurt Henry and no one could hide him in the forest better than I.”

Regina still refused to speak and shifted uncomfortably in her chair instead.

Graham waited her out. She was weakening, he could tell.

Henry was her greatest weakness. She’d break when it came to the boy. Every time. Proof enough that she had changed, he thought.

She could and had killed anyone that she had thought was a threat to her. Her own mother even. Not that Graham could muster much sympathy for the hateful bitch, he’d have killed her himself had his queen but given him the freedom to do so, but it spoke to a ruthless pragmatism in Regina that seemed to have faded. Not disappeared –she had been prepared to kill Graham just last week for betraying her, for hurting her- but it was definitely dying out. She hadn’t been able to kill him, after all.

“What use would you be?” She finally murmured. “You said yourself that you won’t kill for me anymore. I’m supposed to believe that Henry would be safe with a guard that won’t permanently take care of threats to him?”

“I said I wouldn’t murder for you.” Graham nodded. “I did not say that I could no longer kill. If someone comes for Henry…I’ll make a gift of their skin to you.”

Regina’s eyes flashed to his and he saw the glint of something wicked and dangerous smoulder deep in her black eyes. She blinked at it was gone. She shifted uncomfortably and tried in vain to find some way to sit that didn’t make her ache.

“Your word.” She decided after a moment. “Swear to me that you would protect him with your life. Swear to me that you’d defend him as fiercely as you would your own kin. Swear to me that you would die for him because I’ll settle for nothing less.”

“Regina,” Graham waited until he had her complete attention, “I swear to you that I shall protect Henry with all of my power. If my life must be lain down so he can survive, it shall be done. He shall be as a son to me. None shall harm him whilst I roam this –or any other- world. On my blood and my bones, on my heart, I swear this to you.”

She watched him with raptor intensity and blinked slowly. She finally nodded and sat back in her chair with a slight grimace of discomfort.

“Don’t pick a bird.” Regina finally relented. “Birds have forever been Snow’s servants.”

“Good.” Graham straightened, clapping his hands down on his knees to snap the pall of tension that had settled over them with their serious words. “Now, come here, you’re in pain.”

Regina squeaked when he spanned her slim waist with his hands, lifting and turning her so she could sit on his lap.

“Graham!”

“Hush.” He told her firmly and wheeled them back behind his desk with a kick of his foot. He wound his arm around her waist to keep her in place and settled his hand deliberately over her wound. His palm covered the bandaging over her sternum, his fingers brushing the underside of one of her breasts and his thumb nestled between both of them. With a gentle tug, he pulled her back against his chest and she hissed out a breath.

Of relief he was sure. She now no longer had to hold herself up and the furnace like heat that he threw off could now seep through her dress to soothe the aching of her chest.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

“Graham…”

“What? The last time you wore this dress I remember you being quite insistent about me being as close as possible.” He flipped open another file and lifted his pen. It was a good thing he was ambidextrous, his usual writing hand was currently occupied with keeping a queen in her new seat.

“That was different.” She growled.

“I agree. There’s no danger of us being seen here.” Graham sat forward so as to better see the file he was supposed to be completing. Something about parking tickets. He rested his chin on her shoulder and listened to her breath catch. “I told you that I remembered everything now.”

“Every…thing?”

“Oh yes.” Graham chuckled and scribbled some annotations into the relevant spaces in the paperwork.

He did hope she didn’t look too closely. It was absolute bollocks. He was really more focussed with the way she shifted on his lap and the heat he could see rising in her cheeks. It always amazed him that he could make her flush. She was so carnal, so hungry, that he should have thought she was well past blushing but he could make her do it.

“I remember the fireworks, the lasagne sandwich you lured me in with, the hipflask of cider that was kept in a distinctly more intimate location than your hip and –of course- the way you had me take you right there on the bandstand where anyone could have seen us had they just looked. This damn skirt,” Graham dropped his pen in favour of gripping her skirts and scrunching them in his fist with an audible sound, “ _rustling_ the whole time.”

“Oh.” Regina gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles going white.

“I confess that I always thought they were knots, as in ‘and crosses’, but I can see how O’s might be more fitting.”

“What?”

“Your little rating system.” Graham reached out and shunted the ink blotter on his desk aside to reveal the little carving there in the desk; _2.3.88 OOOD_. “Only three and a half? If I recall correctly, that little escapade made you scream so loud someone thought I was killing you.”

“That was the one in the cells, actually.” Regina closed her eyes when she realised she’d fallen into his trap and acknowledged his game. She ground her teeth. Damn it.

“Oh, aye, that’s right. When I hung you by your wrists and that comely blue scarf of yours from the bars then took you so hard against them you looked like someone had tried to griddle you.” His lips brushed her ear as he rumbled the words into it. She shivered.

“Beast.” She growled at him, trying not to squirm.

“That’s not what you said at the time. It was really something much more like ‘ _again, make me come again, Graham_ ’. You’d just finished screaming that when Hopper walked in.”

“That was some fast talking on your part.” Regina smirked.

Having everyone stupefied by a curse had its advantages. She still had no idea what Graham had said to Hopper to get rid of him, but he had managed to convince the cricket that everything was fine –even if the Mayor was hanging naked from the bars of one of the cells.

“I was scared as hell, thinking we were about to get caught. Not all of us were in on the joke, after all. I didn’t know that Hopper was going to forget by the next day.” Graham’s teeth raked her neck and she shivered again.

“You certainly didn’t seem scared when you took me down from the bars, bent me over that filthy little cot and fucked me until I blacked out.” Two could play at the torment game and it wasn’t entirely involuntary that Regina let her legs part so she straddled his thigh. The muscles of his leg tight with tension and like corded steel bunching under the material of his pants.

He growled in her ear and his hold tightened around her. She gasped jostled from her perch on his leg and tilting suddenly. Her hand flew out to steady herself and landed squarely between his legs and over the iron bar of his cock. Her body turned, ignoring the pain of stretching stitches, her head tilted to his and they both flinched when a bright flash of light seared their retinas.

“What the…?!” Graham blinked rapidly, tugging Regina flush against his chest again, half turning the chair as if to shield her from whatever threatened her. “Sidney.” He snarled.

“Sheriff Humbert.” Sidney stood in the doorway of the office, his camera still half raised. He smirked in that shit-eating manner of journalists. The gleam of a front page scoop in his eyes. “Madam Mayor, glad to see you recovering.”

“Get out.” Graham’s voice was flat, no trace of a smile on his lips.

“I mean no harm.” Sidney let his camera hang from its strap around his neck. “I’m here as a civic service. People are worried about their mayor. I’m merely trying to show that she’s alive, well and…in good hands.”

“Sidney,” Regina recovered herself and pasted a smile on her face, her voice was low and intimate, the best one for getting what she wanted where Sidney was concerned, “there’s really no need…”

“For pet journalists to be sniffing around.” Graham rumbled. He reached to his belt and unclipped the holster of his gun, clapping the Magnum .357 onto the table with a heavy clunk. His thumb ‘accidentally’ flipping the safety off.

If his finger happened to _accidentally_ squeeze the trigger –even whilst the gun was still in its holster- it was likely that the resulting hole in certain cameras would carry right on through to the journalist behind them and probably the wall beyond.

“Graham!” Regina seethed, she was handling this. She always handled Sidney. He was a pain in the ass, a sycophant of the highest order, but he had his uses.

“And the Sheriff is one to be casting aspersions about being on the Mayor Office’s leash?” Sidney’s jaw clenched, anger flushing his cheeks.

Graham surged to his feet so quickly that Regina would have been sent flying had she not been pinned in place by Graham’s arm about her waist.

That was more than enough for Sidney who blanched and made a break for the door.

Graham gave a low growl but subsided down into his chair again, pulling Regina with him so she sat on his lap once more. He rubbed absently at her front, soothing her wound even as he scowled after the journalist. She was not so easily soothed.

“What the hell was that?!”

“A frank and earnest exchange of ideas.” Graham rumbled, still frowning at the doors swinging closed in the wake of Sidney’s departure.

“An exchange that shall be printed in tomorrow’s newspaper verbatim because you wouldn’t let me handle it.”

“Handle him you mean.” Graham didn’t look away from his watch of the doors and Regina resisted the urge to slap him.

“Yes, _handle_ him. It’s part of my job. Do you have any idea what I’m going to have to do to get him to ‘lose’ that photograph?” Regina rocked back from him when his gaze suddenly thudded into hers.

He looked at her in a particularly heavy manner. His head tilted to the side and his voice was deceptively mild.

“Do tell.” The heel of his hand slid lower over the front of her body, pressing firmly below her navel. “What does the good little servant think he can get from you with his pictures?”

“Nothing that you got, certainly.” Her breath caught and she tried to ignore it. “It involves pandering to him. A tiring activity I can do without. Congratulations, in protecting my delicate sensibilities you’ve made my life more difficult.”

“I wasn’t protecting you.” Graham’s fingers tapped against her stomach, the heat of his hand burning at her through the material of her dress. “I was marking territory.”

Regina’s mouth opened to issue some kind of blistering retort he was sure, but he wasn’t interested.

“Save it. You made sure everyone knew I belonged to you, now I’m returning the favour.”

“You have no idea the can of worms you’ve just opened! The hoops I’ll have to jump through at the town council meetings now. Every single meeting I’ve got for the foreseeable future just became about you and I.”

“Good.”

“Good?!”

“I think it’s time you admitted to everyone whose name it is you scream at night.”

“You just said that everyone already knows!” Regina hissed at him.

“And now they’re going to hear you admit it.” Graham grinned, lazily looking her up and down. Her chest heaved so prettily when she was angry.

“This world has _rules_ about that kind of thing being public knowledge. I could be voted out of office, _you_ could be fired.”

“Good.” Graham’s smirk didn’t falter.

“In what way is that ‘good’?!” Regina growled.

“Why should I care about this job? I never wanted it in the first place. What do I care about your job? The curse is going to break and –pretty soon- Storybrooke will be nothing but a hazy memory. Your entire world is falling down, pet, I’m going to be the only thing left standing from it.” Graham stood again, lifting her up to sit on the desk. He loomed over her, his hands planted on either side of her thighs, caging her in his arms. There was nowhere to go when he dipped his head and nuzzled against her neck. He greedily inhaled her scent. “You’d best hold on and think of reasons for me to keep you around after I’m done with you.”

“If the curse breaks and we’re back in the Enchanted Forest, I’ll have magic again. I’ll be far from defenceless.” Her breath hitched a little but she sounded strong for the most part. She thought.

“Against me, defenceless is exactly what you’ll be.” Graham’s teeth grazed her neck again and Regina huffed out a breath. This was ridiculous, this hold he had on her.

“And what makes you think that?” Regina clung to her anger, slippery though it was under the assault of his lips ghosting over her skin.

“Simple, you said it yourself; love is weakness.”

“I do NOT love…”

“I told you.” Graham turned his head and bit down sharply on her neck, just for a second, but his teeth closed over the major blood vessels in her throat and robbed her of their circulation for just a moment. Her world hazed for a moment and her pulse thundered in her ears. Heat pooled low in her belly.

She was in trouble, so much trouble, and his next words only crystallised that certainty.

“I remember everything.” He nipped her chin with his teeth again in that almost affectionate little bite. “You told me you loved me, that night. In your way, you said, you love me. From these very lips, those words spilled, the same lips that have told a thousand lies but _that_ …even you wouldn’t lie about that.”

“I might.”

He laughed at her.

“Aye, you might,” he nipped at her lying lips as well and she very nearly whimpered, “but you didn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you, pet, know you better than anyone alive. You used to kill that which made you weak. Used to murder those that you knew could use your love against you.”

“How do you know I still wouldn’t?” She growled at him, mustering anger from somewhere.

“Because of Henry.”

All the air left her on a whoosh.

“You love him and he loves you and you’d die before you hurt him…and me. You died before you’d hurt me again. You died to free me.”

“What?” Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving. No, she couldn’t have. She hadn’t. No.

“Your heart stopped, pet. That night. I got it going again, but it stopped. You died. For a handful of seconds. You died for me.”

“That’s…it means nothing.” Regina gulped hard.

No. Not that. Anything but that. God, she couldn’t even remember the whole passage from the book. What the hell book had it been? Had she brought it with her? Why would she have done? It’s not like she’d ever thought she’d have need for knowledge of that kind of magic.

“No, pet, it means everything.” Graham leaned in even closer and whispered the last in her ear.

“It means I really do own you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – the Woodcutter**

 

_**The Town Hall…** _

 

“Do we really have to do this now?” Graham followed after Regina with the basket and the only reason she didn’t twist to glare at him was because it would hurt her chest and –now- her side.

“Yes. They need to be picked now for the recipe to be right.” Regina stopped under the shade of her apple tree and smiled up at the branches. She reached up to pick one of the crimson fruits and grimaced with a sound of discomfort when she found her arm uncooperative when it came to raising over her head.

“For cider?” Graham dumped his armful of the files she had insisted on getting onto the marble bench under the tree. “Sit.” He ordered her when she looked like she was thinking about pulling her stitches through the dint of being too bloody stubborn to realise she wasn’t recovered enough to pick sodding apples.

She glared at him.

“Please?” She looked mulish for long moments and he rolled his eyes with a low growl. “Fine. Hold this.”

He thrust the basket into her arms and she looked confused for a moment before she squeaked in surprise, suddenly going up in the world. Graham had stooped, wrapping his arms about her legs and stood up with her sat on his shoulder. That damned skirt rustling in his ear.

“Pick your apples then.”

She quite deliberately rested the basket on top of his head and he huffed out a snort of irritation through his nose.

“You should really give a little warning before you manhandle someone.” She admonished him.

It was all terribly civil really. They didn’t shout at one another or curse each other out though it would seem they were done with trying to physically kill one another. So that just left the silent and mutual decision to do their level best to needle one another completely over the edge into madness.

“You’ve never complained before.” He grumbled.

“Yes, well…that was when you couldn’t remember that you hated me.” Regina murmured and dropped apples into the basket. “Left a bit.”

Graham sidled around the tree and listened to her pick her apples.

Silence stretched between them and he shifted her in his hold a little, craning his neck a little under the weight of the basket. He was more than a little surprised when she lifted it off his head and settled it on her lap instead. She ruffled his hair out of the mussing it had suffered under the wicker basket and he looked up at her from under her fingers. Regina snatched her hand away and went back to studiously picking apples.

“How do you do it?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t look down at him again.

“Make the cider. Why does it HAVE to be done today?”

“The recipe takes a year to complete. It really should have been done last week but I was a little occupied.” Her tone was light and he could feel, due to their unwitting connection, that she genuinely held no malice towards him for it.

She was such a strange creature.

“We’re going to the animal shelter after this.” He told her, ignoring the way she stiffened before studiously going back to her apple picking. “Any preference on what kind of pet you are to have?”

“I’m not keeping it.” She twisted to glare down at him and then turned away again when the position was too uncomfortable to maintain. “You want a little animal guide, YOU can keep it.”

“Oh, I shall, but it will be living in our house. I was simply asking if you had a preference.” Graham gleefully dropped that little bomb and watched her seethe out a breath from between clenched teeth.

“It is not OUR house, it is MY house.”

“In which I will be staying. For as long as it takes.” He let her decide what ‘it’ was and watched her jaw clench and match the anger that crackled between them with their connection between her heart and his.

He realised then that he liked to needle these reactions from her so that he might see honesty in her face. What she would feel around him, he decided, would be honest.

It might not be nice or charitable, but her face would match what she felt, even if he was the only audience for it.

“And what, pray tell, will ‘it’ be?”

“Breaking the curse.” Graham shrugged, jostling her on his shoulder a little, forcing her to grip his arm so as not to be knocked from her perch. She nudged his side with her foot and he took the hint and sidled further around the tree.

“You have to know that I’m not exactly going to fling myself into helping you. I have too much to lose, no matter what you say you can do to protect Henry, there is still no guarantee that he would come with us back to the Enchanted Forest…I can’t lose him.”

“You won’t.” Graham murmured and tightened his arms about her legs to comfort her before he could think better of it.

“Really? So experienced with curses are we?”

“I have lived one long enough and I know you, you’ve ever been useful at finding a way to get what you want.”

“That sounded almost like a compliment.”

“A statement of fact.” He studied her movements, simple and graceful, selecting the choicest of fruits for her latest batch of cider. “Even I would not take Henry from you so I shall make a bargain with you.”

“Oh?” She didn’t look at him but Graham could tell he had her full attention.

“Work with me on breaking the curse –willingly and without treachery- and I shall not let it be broken until you have found a way to be certain that Henry will be brought with us.”

Regina picked more apples as she mulled his offer over. He waited patiently on her decision, he had all the time in the world, after all.

“How do you know I won’t lie to you, tell you that I haven’t found a way?”

“Because you can no longer lie to me. I know what the truth is like from you. I alone have seen you at your most vulnerable, most intimate, moments and I know how you speak, how you look, when you lie.”

Regina stilled, her hand lightly grasping one of the apples that shone so lustrous and fresh upon the branch and she swallowed hard.

“You think so?” Her voice was small.

“I know so.”

“Oh.” She finally plucked the apple from the branch and dropped it into the half full basket on her lap.

“So, do we have an accord? You help me in return for my protection against the curse being broken by another and Henry comes with us when the curse is broken.”

“There is no bargain where you do NOT break the curse?”

“No.”

“So…the best I can hope for is to choose when it happens?” Regina pulled another apple from the branch hard enough to set it shaking.

“Aye, pet.” He sidled around the tree again without waiting to be told. “You can choose when it happens, have Henry brought with us and I shall be your ally once more in the Enchanted Forest whilst you recover your strength.”

“And, once that is done and I am recovered, what is to stop me from killing you?”

“Your heart. I have not forgotten that you love me.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Regina glared down at him. “You might think you have a hold over me and perhaps you do, but I have lived my entire life without having my love returned, such fragile things as heartstrings cannot hope to yoke me into bowing to you. It is better that you learn that now. I shall not leap every time you click your fingers, no matter how much I supposedly love you.”

“You will if you want me to go easy on you.” Graham looked up at her seriously.

“What happened to you not hurting me?”

“I referred to physical pain.”

“I grew up with my mother, you haven’t the depravity to make me suffer an equal mental torture as to what she doled out when I was _good_ in her eyes.”

“That may be but, you said yourself, I’m the most eligible man in town. I’m sure there are lots of people that will help me if I just smile and ask them prettily. Emma perhaps…?”

“You’d be so quick to sign her death warrant?” Regina’s voice was mild but the streak of fiery possessiveness that went through her and the savage way she tore the apple from the branch belied her tone. “I do not share.”

“You won’t have to if you help me. You’ll have my complete and undivided attention.”

“I already said I would teach you how to speak to this new pet you’re so desperate to foist on me, what more do you want?”

“I want you to help me. I want you to want to help me.” His voice was softer than she had thought it would be and she looked down at his serious face watching her intently. She went still, and then turned away from him again.

“Helping you means helping them and that I can never do with a smile on my face.”

“Helping me means we get to go home. Helping me means helping yourself. Surely you can be enthusiastic about that.”

“My home is here now.”

“Liar.” Graham murmured with no real heat. “You miss the forest, I know you do. You miss your magic which gave you a freedom that you had always craved, you miss your elaborate dresses that you’d have me remove with my teeth and then fuck you in the ruins of them, you miss riding through the forest with your hair down –the only time I have ever heard you laugh like there is nothing at all in the world that can hurt you. You miss it, pet. You miss it as fiercely as I do.”

“I cannot risk losing Henry. There is no way to be certain.” She didn’t deny anything of what he had said.

“There must be.” Graham told her just as surely.

“How can you be so sure?” She looked down at him, annoyed again.

“Because I shall help you if you help me. Give me what I want, help me break the curse, and I will do all in my power to help you keep Henry with you. We have done great and terrible things together, you and I. Let us –for once- do something good.”

“I’m not very good at being good.” Regina stared into the leaves of the apple tree.

“Neither am I but, between the two of us, I’m sure we can figure some of it out. What do you say?”

“I can say…that I will teach you how to speak to your animal. I will look for a way to keep my son with me when we return and…I won’t stand in your way. That’s as close as you’re going to get.”

“Good.” Graham nodded, that had been more than he had expected from her. “Now, to my original question, what kind of pet would you prefer?”

Regina groaned and huffed out a sigh. Snatching an apple off a branch she thought about it mulishly for long moments, attempting to discern the least distasteful of her options.

“A dog. I suppose. Something that can be trained. I would like at least one creature that lives in my house to abide by some of my wishes.”

“I will abide by all your wishes as soon as they coincide with mine.” Graham smirked up at her.

“Quite.” Regina agreed waspishly and he moved around the tree again without her needing to ask.

She made a small sound of surprise when he staggered suddenly and she nearly dropped her basket of apples.

“What is it?”

“Hold on.” Graham stooped, setting her feet on the ground again, straightened and simultaneously relieved her of the heavy basket of apples so she never once felt its full weight. “What the hell…?”

Graham looked down at what he had stepped into and frowned.

Regina peered around him, following his gaze, and ice water seemed to pour down her spine and throb in her side.

Footprints.

Gigantic footprints.

Graham’s foot was still in one of them and the print was easily over three times the length of his. It was sunk two inches into the turf of the lawn and the matching footprint was nearly three feet away. The prints were human shaped, boot shaped, but there was certainly no one in Storybrooke that was that tall.

“He’d have to be…nine feet tall.” Graham looked up at the branches of the tree, imagining such a height, and saw some of the very smallest branches had been bent back and denuded of leaves. He turned back to the prints and measured their depth and the spread of them. “Weigh about…eight hundred pounds?” He rounded on her and his eyes widened. “Who did you bring with us that’s this large?”

“No one.” Regina shook her head hurriedly, her arm hugging her waist. No one outside of her head at any rate. “There was nothing in the Enchanted Forest that would be so large and still remain human shaped. Giants are a hundred feet tall and ogres about…thirty? Neither of them wear shoes and I didn’t bring any with me. There was no magic here to sustain them.”

Graham scowled and looked down at the prints and then cast about again, searching for more tracks. There were none, just those two. Like it had materialised there and then disappeared. Which meant magic.

“But there is magic in Storybrooke. It’s made of magic, even if you can’t manipulate it as you once did.” He rounded on Regina. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Regina blinked when she realised what she had just said. “Alright, I didn’t bring anything here that would make tracks like that. The biggest thing I brought was a dragon and she’s securely locked away in a prison she cannot leave.”

“Maleficent? You brought…of course you did.” Graham scrubbed his hands over his face. He huffed out a slow breath and inhaled, stilling halfway through the motion. He dropped his hands and sniffed again. He wrinkled his nose.

“What is it?” Regina shifted from foot to foot nervously. What did he know?

“Pine and sweat and…blood.” Graham’s eyes landed on her. “Your blood.”

“Well…the wound seeps, I told you…”

“Liar.” Graham looked back at the prints, eyes narrowed, and then scanned the garden again.

He stilled when he saw the mark on the tree. Right there, halfway up the trunk, a scar. Silvery and old, had to be at least ten years old, but a wound in the side of the tree that had nearly cut it in half but had then incongruously healed over. He was beginning to get a terrible sense of déjà vu. Graham turned slowly to look at Regina, his eyes dropping to her waist as if he could see through the bright material of her dress.

“Regina…”

“What?”

“What do you know?”

“I told you, I don’t…”

“Liar.”

Regina’s jaw clenched and she scowled at him.

“It was a dream. Well, a memory that turned into a nightmare.” Regina looked away from him and hugged herself. She decided he didn’t need to know most of it and skipped to the end. “I looked out the window of my office and saw a…man. He was standing there,” she nodded to the prints, “he looked big enough to have made them. He swung his axe into the tree and…”

“And the wound appeared on you.”

Her eyes skated back to his at his tone and his jaw was clenched into a granite line. He cast about the garden again, green eyes scanning hungrily for any sign of the intruder. His shoulders heaved with every breath, his hands were curled into claws at his sides and he only snapped out of it when Regina’s hand settled on the back of his neck.

“Easy.” She scraped her nails over the skin there and he shivered. “He’s not here. He’s not real.”

“He’s huge.” Graham murmured, his eyes still wild and scanning for threats. “Bigger than any man you’ve ever seen before. The ground shakes with every step he takes but he’s silent. He could be right behind you and you wouldn’t know until his axe finds your neck. He’s dressed like an ordinary man but you can’t say what his face looks like because you just can’t see it. All you can see is the eyes and they are nothing. His eyes are the abyss and they don’t look at you they look through you. Like you don’t exist at all.”

“How…?” Regina’s hand slid from his nape but it only got as far as his elbow, she found herself unable to let go.

“Because,” Graham swallowed hard, like he had a wretched taste in his mouth, “he is real. He’s the Woodcutter and he’s found me.”

Graham shook himself and seemed to snap out of it. He scooped up the basket and dumped the files she had wanted on top of the apples. Wrapping an arm about her waist, he shepherded her towards the gates of the garden and the car lot beyond. He never stopped scanning for the threat of the Woodcutter.

“Who is the Woodcutter?” Regina looked up at him and he was too busy keeping watch to look back.

“You know who he is.” Graham hurried her towards the truck.

“He’s the stuff of nightmares.”

 

 

_**The Blackwood, Then…** _

 

Howl lay on his belly on the summit of the grassy hillock cresting one end of the valley. His frost green eyes glittered as he took in the herd grazing below them.

Night lay beside him, ears tilted forward to reduce his silhouette and he watched the prey below with interest. He looked sideways at his elder brother.

“An elk, brother? You are sure?”

“Aye, we can take it.” Howl studied the herd, searching for a likely candidate.

They had to be careful taking their pick. Enough for them, for the pack, but not too much. Not the mother with her new calf –she would be far too vicious, fight too cruelly. Not the lead bull with his gigantic wealth of antlers that could gore and flip a wolf into the air like tossed rabbit bones.

“But…taking an elk is a hunt for the whole pack.” Night’s red eye glinted with a glassy flash in the noonday sun.

“Are we not the fastest of all the pack?”

“Yes.”

“And are we not the cleverest of all our siblings?”

“Of course.” Night snorted his amusement.

“Then it is simple. We shall cut into the herd and spook one of the younger bulls away from his brethren. We chase him into the woods, deep into the thicket, where his antlers will catch upon the branches. Once he is stuck fast –his horns in the branches and his hooves in the thicket- we can easily take his throat.” Howl flopped onto his back and grinned at his brother baring those strange blunted teeth of his.

Howl was strange for a wolf. Almost hairless with soft paws that could pick things up in ways that Night’s own paws could never mimic. He had no claws, his teeth barely sharp enough to rip the throat of a young doe, but he was fast. Even if he did only use two of his legs, he could scamper up trees like a squirrel and looked at the world in a strange kind of way that let him see solutions to problems that would take another wolf the whole pack to solve. That, and he was Night’s brother and the silver wolf would not abandon him for anything. He was strange and tall and tailless but he was his brother.

Night heaved a sigh.

“We are to be in trouble again.”

“Probably.” Howl held out those strange forepaws of his and raised his eyebrows. “Though the pack will be glad to have such a fine meal as a whole elk. It will surely please Boar Jaw.”

“Nothing pleases Boar Jaw.” Night snorted and curled his lip.

“Elk will. Come on.” Howl flipped onto his belly again and clambered in that awkward way of his over the summit of the hill. He descended through the tall grasses, rising into a hunch over his two hind legs and then moving much more quickly.

Night followed in that fluid and effortless way of true wolves and spoke softly to his brother.

“And –pray- which elk is to be ours?”

Howl turned and looked back at him, those white teeth of his bared in a grin.

“The white one of course.”

 

_**Later…** _

 

“Chase an elk, you said.” Night panted, galloping alongside Howl through the shafted light eking through the gaps in the trees. “Catch him in the thicket, you said.”

“Save your breath for running.” Howl hurdled a fallen log after the bounding white rump of their prey and growled to himself.

The white elk had led them on a merry chase for a half day’s lope. Deeper and deeper into the Blackwood, deeper than they were supposed to go. So deep that the trees blocked nearly all light from finding its way down to the ground. It was so dark that it could have been the middle of the night. The thick trees packed so closely together that the sounds of their whisper quiet feet seemed to bark into the dark.

Howl didn’t care.

He was determined. He could smell the lather of sweat on the pale elk’s flanks. The beast’s breaths came in coughing pants and it stumbled every so often. It could not last much longer.

They burst from the trees and into the clearing so suddenly that both young wolves yelped and squinted at the sudden brightness of light, even if they had run into the shade of the cliff face.

“Where is it?” Night wrinkled his nose and covered his eyes with his paw, a mannerism he had picked up from Howl. It helped.

“There!” Howl’s eyes always adjusted better to the day and saw further than the rest of the pack.

He took off full pelt and bounded up the scree that had gathered at the base of the sheer cliff. There must have been a landfall many seasons past and it had left a great slope of shale and boulders piled in a treacherous incline towards the cliff.

The elk scrambled doggedly upward. There was nowhere to go but the beast was trapped and knew it. He was going to put his tail to the cliff and try and cast his tormentors down the slope with a sweep of those sharp antlers of his. It slipped and tiny shards of sharp pebble skittered down the slope.

If it didn’t tumble and snap one of its thin legs first that was.

Howl was already on the slope, bounding up after it. The incline so steep that even he could use all four legs. He hopped from boulder to boulder when the size allowed for it and picked his way carefully between such safeties as those sizeable rocks. He avoided the sharp shale wherever he could and was so intent on catching the elk as it scrambled madly for a likely spot to make its last stand that he didn’t even notice the shifting of the shale.

It started slowly with a tinkling, slithering sound. It tumbled and rolled, seeming to sink away inward like the slope was sucking in a deep breath and still Howl didn’t see it.

Night did.

“Brother, look out!” He barked and Howl paused, turning to see what had Night so panicked. He tilted his head, whining in wordless question and then the world gave out from under him.

“BROTHER!” Night bellowed and scrambled madly up the slope.

The sharpness of the slate fractures cut into his paws in his dashing gait but he did not stop until he stood on a great slab of boulder overlooking the gaping maw of blackness that led beneath the slope.

“Brother, Howl, can you hear me?!” Night was so worried that he did not even give a half-hearted clip of his teeth to the elk that bounded heedless down the slope to safety. Seizing its opportunity to escape as any worthy prey would.

“Brother!” Night prowled back and forth over the lip of the boulder, his eyes frantically searching for a safe way down into the dark. A faint cough reached his ears.

“Howl?” Night sank down onto his belly and edged closer to the edge than any wolf with sense would dare and stuck his whole head down into that cloying dark.

“I…ugh, I’m alright.”

“True?”

“True.” Howl groaned and worked his feet under himself.

He hesitantly stood, wary against the crackling of bones that meant he would never hunt again. His body creaked, it ached all down one side, but he was able to move everything well enough. He coughed again at the dusty air and looked about himself.

Howl had no memories of being in a human dwelling but –if he had- he’d have recognised what first appeared to be a cavern as a hewn cottage buried beneath the centuries old landslide. Thick dust covered everything and it smelled ancient, the air stale and too thick. Undisturbed for decades. The furniture –a scarred table, a chair, something that might have been the remnants of a bed- was blocky and carved with a crude skill. It was also twice the size and half again of that made for a normal man. Whoever had lived there was far bigger than a mortal human.

Howl used his forepaws to scrub at his face, clearing the dust from his mouth, nose and eyes.

“Howl?”

“Still here.” Howl tilted his head up to look up into the freedom above. He padded forward so that he stood directly under the hole that had gulped him down. “I cannot see a way out.”

“Nor I a way down.”

“Do not jump!” Howl barked, knowing that would be his brother’s next idea. There was no point in them both being snared by this trap.

Had the elk known? No, those beasts had nought but the roots of their horns in their heads. The young bull would not have known about this place and –even if he had- he certainly would not have thought to try and lure Howl into falling into it.

“I wasn’t going to.” Night grumbled. “You cannot even climb?”

“The sides are too smooth and too steep.” Howl squinted into the dark and wished for an uncountable time that his eyes were as keen as Night’s in the dark.

That was where his brother had gotten his name, after all. He had guided Howl through many a pitch night. Over ditches, fording rivers, ducking branches…an idea struck.

“Night!” Howl called up into the light. “You must go back into the wood and find a long branch. The longest you can break off and drag. Bring it here and I may use it to climb out if you hold the other end.”

“Fair plan!” Night bounded to his feet. “Do not despair, I shall be back in a wag.” And then he was gone.

Loneliness suddenly clawed at Strange Howl and he hugged his forepaws about himself. He did not usually feel the cold, having trained himself out of it a long time ago –despite having no thick pelt of fur like his family did- but he felt it now.

It was so dark, only a thin shaft of light spearing down into the encroaching gloom to offer him any light. Howl sank down onto his haunches and stayed in that light. He had never been afraid of the dark.

Dark meant good hunting, it meant the moon and it meant following the bright plume of his brother’s tail along the safe path. That was not what this dark meant.

This dark meant…more dark.

Howl frowned when he found that thought lacking.

He looked about himself, trying to order his head into making something a bit clearer for him to better name his situation but all he could think of was the darkness pressing in around him.

Howl bit back a shiver and wished for the musky smell and warm press of the sleeping pile of the pack. The cold seeped into his bones like the dangerous sleep of winter. When old or young wolves slept too long in the white and it took them. It had nearly taken him several times as a whelp.

It felt like it stalked him again now but this time…this time it was the black that came for him.

He wished again for the warm pelts of his family, loaned to him through touch for he did not have one of his own and it was wolf to help those in the pack, and sat fully down on the ground. He yelped when he found that _it_ had a pelt.

He bounded to his feet and immediately thought it was a trap. There were beasts in the forest that preyed on wolves, after all. Beasts that drew foolish wolves in close by looking like something else. A trapped elk calf ripe for the taking or a frisky she-wolf who cavorted closer and closer until she could wrap her jaws around the unwary wolf’s throat and then it was done in a single snip and a blast of red.

That had been how Stone Paws had died.

Howl looked wildly about himself and –loathe though he was to leave the light- he could not tolerate standing on that treacherous pelt. Not if it meant it would wrap around him and drag him down into its crushing embrace.

So Howl ran blindly into the dark, he ran until he tripped over something and went tumbling head over heels over the smooth ground of the cavern. Smooth, safe, stone.

Howl rolled to his fingers and toes and willed his eyes to adjust fully. He panted through his nose, pale green eyes darting about the cavern, waiting for an attack that never came.

Slowly, he began to feel a little ridiculous.

Though sitting in the dark had allowed his meagre night vision to broaden to its fullest and he cast about the cavern again, searching for a way out.

He prowled closer to the pelt, studying it closely, and reached out with a cautious finger. He prodded it with a single pad and then hopped back, waiting for a reprisal.

Where was Night? This was terrifying.

He prodded again –this time in a different spot- and hopped back once more.

Nothing happened.

Deciding that he had nothing better to do. Howl prowled around the edge of the dreadfully still pelt and tried to discern what kind of animal it had come from. It was thick and dark, thick like a wolf’s but larger. Much, much, larger.

He came across the paw first and immediately thought wolf. The claws were similar but there was something wrong with it. It wasn’t until he picked it up and examined it more closely that he realised the structure of the paw more closely resembled Howl’s own forepaws. The toes were too long for a normal wolf or even a bear and it had that extra claw that faced the wrong way. The claw that allowed Howl to grasp things like a bird might perch upon a branch.

Howl carefully set the heavy and dead paw back on the ground and continued on his prowl. The pelt was huge, spread across nearly the entire cavern floor, the sides ragged from where they had been cut away from the long dead animal. It smelled of faintly of birds’ eggs left in the sun and the musty scent of a grizzled old wolf. The elder way that Father had smelled before the winter white had taken him in the night.

Howl froze when he came across the head.

Impossible.

His green eyes were wide, the whites showing all the way around and his slim chest heaved with every panicked breath.

No. it could not be.

No wolf could grow this large.

Howl stared at the head of the pelt, the skull inside giving structure to it where it had been flattened out of every other part. This part of the pelt looked almost alive. Perfectly preserved, the nose still shining wet, the whiskers intact and the ears still pointed and erect. The eyes were closed, giving the impression that the great wolf slept, perhaps unaware that his body had been emptied out of his skin.

The head was also as long as Howl was tall when he stood up on his hind paws in the way that felt natural to him.

He crouched down, not daring to touch this part, until he was nose to nose with that giant head. He tilted his head this way and that, trying to puzzle it out. It was old, he could smell that much. Did that mean that this was some kind of ancient wolf from another time? When wolves were so much bigger? Had there been such a time?

There must have been. How else could this wolf have grown so large? Bigger than a bear, bigger than anything Howl had ever seen.

Howl shrieked like a downed bird when the eyes opened.

He bolted backwards, falling over his tailless rump, scrambling madly out of the way.

A low rumbling sound that trembled through the entire room came from the pelt. It hunched, the folds of it bunching up. The rasping sound of dead claws dragging over the stone floor grated into Howl’s ears as one paw was slowly rattled closer and then the other. The head slithered backwards, hanging awfully for a moment from the neck with no muscle, leathery dead tongue lolling, before the magic that animated the rest of the pelt levelled it out.

“Who…” The jaws of the pelt parted, ancient fangs yellowed and cracked with age clipping together with each rasped word. “Who disturbs my rest?”

Howl could do nothing but stare for long and pounding moments. His heart kicking so fiercely within his chest that he thought it might break free of his ribs. His mouth worked, nothing but a whimpering sound emerged and then he shook himself. He was not a whelp any longer. He was not prey.

“I…my name is Strange Howl, grandfather wolf.” Howl cautiously got his feet under himself and wondered if the wolf skin could see him.

There were no eyes. Nothing. Just empty ragged holes looking down at Howl

. “Strange Howl?” The pelt head loomed down, sliding down through the distance that separated them in a boneless slink. “This is a wolf name. You do not look like any wolf I have seen before. Have wolves changed so much in the time that I have slumbered?”

“N-no, my lord. I…I was born of a human woman. She died and my pack took me in.”

“That is…saddening.” The giant pelt rumbled the head coiling completely around Howl to hover over his other shoulder, the tatty aged pelt brushing over his shoulders in a musty embrace. Howl tried very hard not to just scream in terror.

“I have never thought so, my lord.” Howl gulped down his panicked whimpers. “My pack is the only family I have ever known. The Forest took the human woman that whelped me. It is not sad. It just is.”

“Hrrrnn…” The huge pelt spoke with a voice like the rumbling of rocks tumbling down the mountainside. “That is indeed a wolf thought.”

“I am a wolf.”

“And yet you are not.” The pelt seemed to speak mostly to itself, slinking away from him again to loom far above him.

“I am!”

“I mean no offence, small one. It simply is.”

“It is not!” Howl forgot his fear in the face of the insult.

Of course he was a wolf. What else could he be?

“YOU THINK TO QUESTION ME?” The pelt’s jaws gaped wide, so wide that Howl’s vision was filled with nothing but ancient fangs. “Here, in the blackwood, in the place where all wolves were born, you think to question me? To fall upon me with no rebuke? To disturb my slumber? To awaken us?”

“I meant no harm.” Howl shrank back. “It was an accident, a misstep on the hunt. I meant no harm.”

It seemed academic, he was already so much smaller than the pelt, but Howl crouched, turning his head and baring his throat. It grated against everything in him, but being submissive in this moment might well save his life.

“Hrrrrn…” That same rumbling sound game from the pelt again. The one that sounded more like rock grating over rock rather than anything organic. “There are no accidents in the Forest. Not here in the Blackwood. This is the old place, the place where all green comes from, the place where we were born.”

“We?” Howl dared to question, his curiosity overcoming his fear.

“Aye, my murderer and I.” The pelt’s head swung around in that rustling boneless way and Howl followed its gaze, stretching up on his hind legs and peering across the room.

He sucked in a panicked breath when he saw it. A great hand, a claw of flesh drawn tight and leathery over bone, emerged from the rubble in the back of the cavern. It grasped towards Howl, petrified in a clutching talon and Howl shrank back behind the pelt, hiding from it. It was a man’s hand but it was a man’s hand in the same way that the monstrous thing looming over him was a wolf’s pelt. Far bigger than any he had ever seen.

“You killed him? You killed a man?” Howl’s voice was a harsh croak. “That is forbidden. Killing humans endangers the entire pack. It is not done.”

“We are wolves that are not wolves. The same rules do not apply to us.” The pelt looked down at Howl, those eyes boring into him. Howl thought he could see faint lights, glimmers of green, deep in the sockets.

“But…to kill a man? Surely some things are absolute.”

“He is no man. He is the Woodcutter. He is the enemy of the Forest and I its champion. I had to.” The ancient pelt spoke mildly enough but the thunderous growl of eons old rage vibrated the entire cavern.

“Why?”

“We were at war. He wanted to kill the Forest. He wanted to level her trees and rape the carcasses, he wanted to hunt the animals and wear our skins, eat our bones, farm us. This could not stand.”

“So the Forest fought back? It made you, a wolf who is not a wolf, to fight a man that is not a man?”

“Aye, small one, your mind is keen.”

“So…you won?”

“No, small one, we both lost. He has done all but kill me. Rent me asunder with his axe.” The pelt nodded to that grasping claw from within the tomb of the rubble and Howl nearly squeaked when he saw an equally monstrous axe almost within reach of the great hand. “He filled my belly with stone so as to kill my speed and steal my howl.”

Howl sucked in a harsh breath at such a crime. No normal man would, could, do that.

To take a wolf’s howl was to end him in the most definite way. To take his voice so that he could not sing with his pack, to other packs, to his ancestors or the moon, to take his very soul…Howl looked over at the reaching hand and felt his lips peel back over his teeth. He forgot his anger when the hand twitched.

“He’s still alive!”

“Only in the same way I am.” The pelt growled. “He tried to kill me and he very nearly did, but the Forest would not release me so easily. I was old even then, old and cunning a way that a thousand thousand generations of your pack could never hope to be. I knew I could not defeat him, not merely as a wolf, I must be more. So I waited.”

Howl looked up at the pelt, eyes wide and glittering in the dim.

“I waited whilst he took my throat, I waited whilst he cut my skin from my bones and boiled them both, whilst he ate my heart and tanned my hide, I waited. I waited.”

“For what?”

“For him to do what all men do; for him to take his trophy.”

“Your skin.”

“Aye, my skin. Brought me to his den. Brought me to his home. I waited.”

“And when he got you here?”

“I used my last breath and I heaved and I seethed and I blew the mountain down.” The pelt tore its empty gaze away from the corpse hand now systematically twitching its fingers and looked back down at Howl. “I tore it down on top of us both and thus we have slept the centuries away.”

“Slept? So he is not dead?”

“No more and no less than I. We are lesser- far lesser- than we were.”

“But that means he could come back! He could try to destroy the forest again! You must fight him!”

“I cannot.”

“You MUST!” Howl bellowed. “Someone must do something!”

Howl cast about himself and his eyes landed on a rock, it wasn’t overly large, but it was sharp at one end. He bent and gripped it in both paws, hefting its weight. He would start with what he could reach and then dig through the rubble piece by piece and smash every bone that he came across.

Let the Woodcutter come for them then, let him try and swing that axe when his bones were no more solid than the shale that had collapsed from under Howl’s paws and tumbled him down here.

“No, small one.” The great pelt’s jaws clipped about the boulder like it was a pebble and took it from Howl’s grasp. It tossed Howl’s weapon away with a flick of its jaw and rounded on him again. “It is to be you but it is not to be this way.”

“What?”

“You must do as I did, you must wait.”

“Wait to be skinned?!”

“No, not to be skinned, but to wear that of another. You must live long enough to grow. You are to be grown when you fight him.”

“Grown? I’ll never be THAT grown!” Howl cast a paw towards the clutching talon under the rubble, its curled brittle nails scraping over the stony floor. Reaching for the axe.

“You will if you hide, grow, become a man.”

“No! Never!”

“YES!” The wolf pelt thundered and the entire room shook with it. The force of his breath that should not be staggering Howl back several steps. His eyes were wide. “You will. You must.”

“Why?”

“For, if he wins, the Forest perishes. Industry, metal, oil and felling, all of these will kill the Forest. It has happened in other worlds I shall NOT let it happen here. You are the next generation, you are to inherit my deeds as my whelp would have had the Forest ever blessed me with one.”

“But…but…I am a wolf.” Howl very nearly whimpered. His eyes burned in that way they did when he was in great pain.

When an eagle had struck him as a whelp and torn at his back, laying red stripes across him, he had whimpered and his eyes had burned and rained. He had never done it without bleeding first but now he thought he might.

“You are and you are not. For now you must not –must seem not- a wolf. You must be as a man. You must not howl, you must not hunt with tooth nor claw, you must wear the pelts of your fellow animals and you must live amongst their kind.”

“No.” Howl’s eyes began to rain, the waters tearing through the grime on his face, revealing the pink man skin underneath. He whined like a whelp. “No.”

“Yes.” The pelt’s ears tilted down then in a wolf expression of sadness. “It pains me too, this should be my trial, but I am done. My bones and sinews have been stolen, I have but one howl left in me, I am consumed by my enemy and time. The Forest retakes me and it gives me you.”

“I do not want to leave my family.” Howl sniffled and scrubbed at his face with his paws. “I was just named.”

“You were already taken from your family. The Forest took you and gave you to one of its children. You were raised in her green embrace and led here by the white elk, led here to follow my tail.” The pelt lowered itself, its chin rubbing over the top of Howl’s head in the way that elder wolves did to comfort their whelps.

Father had done it for Howl but the pelt smelled of age and death, there was no warmth beneath the ragged and thinning fur, there was no thumping heart in the gaping hole where a chest should be. Howl was suddenly angry he shoved away from the pelt.

“And who are you to tell me to do such things?! You are not my pack, by your own words you are not even wolf!”

“You must run. He stirs.”

Rocks skittered in the back of the cavern, of the Woodcutter’s den. The clawing hand finally settled its fingertips over the haft of the great axe and tightened in a crackling grip.

“Let him! It is not wolf to war.”

“It is that thinking that shall get you killed!” The pelt thundered. “It was that thinking that got ME killed! Learn from your elders’ mistakes! THAT is certainly wolf!”

“I am not prey I shall not run.”

“You are prey to the Woodcutter. All creatures are.” The pelt loomed high over Graham again, its pinned back ears brushing the ceiling of the cavern it was so tall.

“No!”

“It is already done! The roots of this path dig deep in the earth of time, they dig deeper than your birth. This is how it would always be. This is the tail that you must follow.”

“No…” Howl shook his head hard.

“I am sorry.”

“If I am not to be a man and I am not to be a wolf, what am I to be?”

“You are the guardian. The howl in the wind, the shiver in the spine, the shadow in the corner of the eye. You are the Wolf At the Door, man-pup.”

“I do not want to be.”

“You must. There is no one else.”

“Why me?”

“Because you are here. I am sorry, little one, but this is as it must be. You must run, you must hide and you must wait. Be not as the wolf or he shall find you and kill you before the Forest can give you its power.”

“What power?” Howl looked up at the pelt.

He had no want for power. All he wanted was to be a wolf. A wolf that was not a wolf, but his pack did not care for that. He was happy, his life was full of hunt and game and a warm den at night. He needed nothing more.

“Hunt as the man, act as the man, speak as the man.” The living pelt said instead. “Do it or you shall die.”

More rocks tumbled in the back of the cavern. There was a horrid grating sound when the axe began to shift. The ancient blade –so old it was more stone than metal- grated over the floor of the cavern. The sound seemed to travel straight to Howl’s bones and rattle them inside his body. The pelt spoke again.

“I cannot do much for you, not much at all, but I do have on last howl.”

“The mountain…?”

Howl stared at the cavern around him, thought of the sheer cliff face bitten into the side of the great slope, torn there by the pelt’s mere breath all those generations ago. Surely a howl from this ancient creature would crack the world.

“Not for the mountain. For you. I shall send you far away. Farther than the reaches of the Blackwood and the senses of the Woodcutter. I shall send you where he cannot see you so that you have the chance to hide.”

“So I am to be the beaten, cringing, dog for the rest of my life?”

“No, you are to be the most cunning of cunning. You are to hide in plain sight and wait for your chance. Your chance to end this once and for all.”

Howl opened his mouth to speak once more, his shoulders slumped in defeat, but a voice from above startled him and the hide both.

“Howl! Howl, I found one! Who are you talking to, brother? Has someone else fallen in with you?” Night’s silhouette appeared over the lip of the hole in the ceiling and Howl felt his heart splash from his chest down into his belly. He saw the pelt looking up at the young wolf and knew what was about to happen.

“NO!” Howl grabbed the pelt with both paws and shook it as hard as he could. The pelt was completely unmoved. “Leave him out of this! Let him go home!”

“I cannot.” The pelt did not look at Howl, it rose instead. Ancient boneless legs gathering beneath it, the tanned hide crackling in age and tearing in places but the dead wolf did not seem to notice. “The Woodcutter knows him now, he must be sent with you. He is a part of this. He will help you survive, as he has ever done.”

“No! No, you mustn’t!” Howl dashed around in front of the pelt as it turned away from him, facing the ragged hole over their heads.

“I must.”

The pelt ducked down, gripping Howl in its jaws. Howl kicked and screamed even though he was not harmed and knew that was not the old pelt’s intention. He was scooped up off the floor and hurled into the air. His legs churned, yelling in fright this time, and he saw the pelt heave, inflate, and then the _howl_.

Howl screamed, at least he thought he did, as he was blasted out of the cavern and into the open air.

The howl that the dead pelt unleashed was like nothing he had ever heard before. It was not just a sound, but a roaring wind as well. It splashed over Howl like a torrent of living water. It got into his eyes, his nose, his mouth and his ears. It scoured over every inch of his skin and took up his entire world. The sound was so large that even his keen ears could not hear all of it, just feel the shuddering of its passing. Howl’s scrambling hands somehow found a familiar pelt and he snatched hold of his brother lest they truly be cast away from one another. He wrapped his arms around Night’s quivering body and held on as tight as he dared.

They tumbled end over end, their world a whirling blur of the ground beneath them and the yawning white blue sky above them. Howl caught sight of the ancient black pines bent backwards in the force of the pelt’s roar like grass beneath a summer breeze. He saw the mountain shudder and crack, another great slab of it falling down, cutting into the rubble in which the cavern had hidden.

Finally –finally- silencing the sound.

But not stopping it.

Never stopping it.

Howl and Night were thrown high into the air, as high as eagles flew, and they did not fall again. They soared through the air, long past their endurance for crying and screaming in terror, and still they did not fall. The land passed beneath them and the sun overhead.

From the Blackwood, over the mountains and to the planes beyond and beyond even that to a far greener forest they had never seen before.

Through the noon, the evening, the night and into the day again.

Until finally they fell.

The landing was hard, branches cracked and snapped around them, they tumbled end over end gathering cuts and scrapes all over, but they did not die. They did not splash into the ground as had happened to other wolves that had fallen far lesser heights in Howl and Night’s experience.

Incredibly, they both lived.

Howl recovered first, lifting his head and peering blearily around in this new forest of verdant green.

Everything seemed brighter, the trees farther apart and letting more of the yellow sunlight to stream in through the leaves. There were less pines so the air did not smell as sharp and Howl could smell…he could smell prey.

His stomach yowled and he staggered to his feet, peering about himself.

It was…it was horse, he could smell horse.

Not wild, there was something wrong with the scent but he didn’t care.

He was starving.

“Night.” Howl’s voice was ragged. “Night, get up, we need to hunt.”

Night lay on the ground, flat out on his side and did not move.

“Night!” Howl gripped his brother by the scruff and shook him.

Night gave a soft whine, so he was alive at least, but did not move otherwise. His yellow and red eyes open and staring at nothing. His legs limp and boneless beneath him even when Howl lifted him and tried to set him on his four.

“Night, please, we need to hunt. You’ll feel better when we run again. I promise.”

Night just whimpered and collapsed down onto his belly.

Howl felt fear claw at him. He’d thought he’d exhausted all the fear he’d ever feel in his life, but this was a new kind. He had never seen wolves like this unless they were dying. Never seen them go so limp and unresponsive unless they had been torn open by a mountain lion or gored on the horns of a bull elk. He had never seen a wolf look so ill unless the ground beneath them was soaked red.

No. Not Night. He would not lose Night as well.

He had lost his family, his prey, his hunting grounds and he had even lost that he was wolf but he would NOT lose Night.

“Alright, it’s alright.” Howl wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled, hauling him up off the ground.

He dragged him, paws and tail trailing, to the hollow of a fallen tree. It was dark and filled with leaves on the inside, much like the den where Night had been born. Howl pushed Night inside and half buried him under the leaves to keep him warm. He rubbed at his brother’s nose with his own.

“Stay here, Night. I’ll bring food. Stay here and wait for me.”

Night just whimpered.

Howl staggered away from the hollow and cast about the forest around him. It was so bright and green it seemed almost alien to him, but the barred shadows of trees falling over him, the scent of trees, the sound of tiny animals fleeing from the wolf smell of him, it was all familiar.

He sucked in a deep breath, reading the scents and finding that strain of horse again.

Horses were difficult, they could run for as long as wolves could, they were rarely alone, and they had hooves that could crush a head or a chest with a single kick.

He’d have preferred a doe or even a young stag but he would take what he could get.

Howl sniffed, turning this way and that, casting for a more refined trail and his entire body straightened when he found it. There!

Howl sprang forward, hurdling the fallen tree under which Night hid and tore through the forest in a whisper of quiet feet. As he ran, he realised that this forest was far lusher than one he had ever run in before. The ground was thick with a springy moss that was kind on his soft paws, ferns grew as tall as his ribs and would provide good cover for pouncing from behind and the abundance of light suited his keen eyes far better than the stark shadows and sparing light of the Blackwood.

He could hear hooves, his run taking on a different gait, he ducked down to lower his profile below that of the ferns and crept closer to the pounding of the horse’s approaching hooves.

It was moving fast, full run, it must have been spooked by something else. With any luck, it would be too focussed on whatever else was chasing it to pay any mind to the wolf about to jump out in front of it.

Howl wasn’t worried about whatever else was chasing a horse, he was fine with taking advantage of their hard work in spooking the beast and running it down. Wolves were the largest hunters in forests –aside from bears- and nothing else that would hunt a horse would dare challenge a wolf for a kill.

Even if this particular wolf wouldn’t look like any they had ever seen before.

Howl kept running in his low prowl until he dashed clean out of the ferns and into an unnaturally wide game trail. He blinked, suddenly caught out in the open, and dived back into the encroaching green of the ferns. He hunkered down in a crouch and poked his head out, studying the wide dark ribbon of the trail.

What could be large enough as to carve a path like this through the forest? Was this the place where the wolves were as big as the pelt he had seen in the Woodcutter’s cavern? Had he been raised by tiny versions of what real wolves looked like all this time?

The approaching sound of thundering hooves wiped the questions from his mind and Howl shimmied forward on his belly to peer out from under the bracken at the hooves rounding the bend in the trail.

Ah, he was in luck, it was quite small –as horses went- and moving very fast.

If he was lucky, he could leap out and trip it. Send its nose ploughing into the ground and snap its neck with minimal effort on his part. Even if the fall just snapped one of its legs, it would be a whelp’s work to kill it while it was downed.

The horse pounded closer and closer, Howl got his paws under him and rolled his shoulders in preparation. He’d have to time it just right.

He waited and waited, waited until the beast was right on top of him, and then leapt snarling from his hiding place, claws and teeth flashing in the light, intending on spooking the beast into a mindless panic.

He succeeded, he succeeded and then some, but it wasn’t until he saw the creature that was shaped so much like him hit the ground that he realised he had made a terrible mistake.

This was the forest of men.

 

_**Storybrooke, Now…** _

 

Graham gripped the wheel of the truck with white knuckled hands and tried very hard not to let his head swivel this way and that looking for traces of the Woodcutter.

Regina had remained silent a whole five minutes into their drive before it became too much for her. She had wanted to know who the Woodcutter was ever since Graham had become so twitchy at the mere mention of him, but he had snarled her into silence with a single growled ‘later’ and then piled her into the truck.

“Why is he in my dreams?” She spoke to the side of his head when he continued to glare at the road.

Graham inhaled a deep breath and let it out on a slow rush.

“He is looking for me.”

“For you?”

“Aye, since I was a boy.”

“Why?”

“It is a very long story.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Regina shifted sideways in her seat so she could fully face him, “I stopped aging twenty eight years ago. I have time.”

“Not when we have to go and pick up Henry.”

“He’s not due out of school for over half an hour. Talk quickly.”

“It is a _very_ long story.”

“Graham, this has to be pretty important if you’re so spooked. I haven’t seen you this frightened since…well, I’ve never seen you this scared.”

“That’s probably because you never put me up against something as dangerous as the Woodcutter before.”

“Graham, I sent you up against rabid bears, ogres, werewolves and dragons and none of _them_ were dangerous enough?”

Graham didn’t say anything, just drove in a tense silence for long moments.

Regina thumped back in her chair and absorbed that implication. She swallowed hard and thought about something so dangerous as Graham was obviously convinced that the Woodcutter was. She huffed out a slow breath.

“And he’s here?”

“Part of him is. You must have brought him here with the curse.”

“What IS he?”

“I don’t know. Not really. The one creature that might be able to tell us is dead.”

“Which creature?”

“The Wolf At the Door.”

“The Wolf At…?” Regina blinked, she had heard that before. Where had she heard that before? She wracked through the memories she had of all those books Rumplestiltskin had piled on her back when she had been learning. She went back further and further in her memories until she hit upon something that sparked familiar. “Wait, you mean the Big Bad Wolf?”

Graham clenched his jaw but otherwise did not respond when Regina scoffed.

“Graham, he’s a myth. Even in our world. He doesn’t exist.”

“Not anymore, no.”

Regina stared at him for a long moment and then turned to look at the town blurring past out the window. She thought about the old and musty book she had read about the Big Bad in. about the stories of what he had been like. As big as a house (which was not as big as a house in this world but still fairly sizeable), with glowing eyes and dripping fangs. He had spoken with human words in the voice of a mountain and his howl had been capable of levelling entire forests and Graham was telling her that this monster was _real_?

“The Woodcutter…killed the Big Bad Wolf…did he not?” A creature that could kill a giant wolf that could tear houses down with its breath. Great.

“Not quite. The Woodcutter beat him, mutilated him, skinned him, ate him, but the wolf managed to bring his house down on top of him. To trap them both for a time.”

"How long a time?"

“Centuries. Until I woke them both.”

“You…? Of course you did.” Regina looked out the window again.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” Graham snarled at her.

“It means nothing in my life is ever easy and don’t raise your voice at me.”

“You don’t control me anymore.”

“Perhaps somebody should.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“And what makes you think that?” Graham growled in a low and dangerous tone, his eyes boring into hers.

“Well, for a start, we’re on the wrong side of the road.”

Graham glanced back at the road and swore, wrenching the wheel of the truck hard so that they were once more on the correct side of the road. He seethed out a long breath and flexed his fingers on the wheel. Studiously watching where he was going and ignoring Regina’s unwavering gaze on his temple.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t have time to tell me the story?”

“Not now. Not yet. There are things I need to check.”

“Things?”

“Yes. Things.” Graham flipped on his indicators and pulled the truck over just outside the school.

It wasn’t yet three, Regina would have half an hour to wait, but he really did suddenly have a whole shopping list of things to do. He killed the engine and dropped down out of the truck, rounding the hood and helping Regina down out of her side so she could stand on the sidewalk beside him. His jaw clenched, he didn’t want to leave her, but it was broad daylight and someone needed to wait for Henry. It was him that now had to venture into the dark.

“Wait here, pick up Henry and then walk to the diner. It’s only half a block away. Stay in sight of other people and don’t talk to anyone you don’t recognise.”

Regina blinked up at him.

“Seriously?”

“I am deadly serious.” Graham told her firmly and her brows raised.

“It was just a dream and some footprints. The curse is based off my thought patterns, it’s entirely possible that those manifested due to my drugged up state. As you say, Storybrooke is full of magic, maybe my emotions and subconscious can manipulate it in a way my conscious mind can’t. You don’t think that maybe you’re jumping the gun a little bit?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Oh…kay.” Regina looked a little nonplussed.

She had really never seen him this worked up over something. Graham was a natural born killer. She had never seen him go up against something with even a flicker of hesitation be it man or beast or something entirely more monstrous but he was scared now.

“I mean it. Stay safe. Don’t go anywhere other than the diner.”

Regina frowned at him and hugged her arms about her waist. She had left her shrug sweater in the Sheriff’s office thinking she wouldn’t need it.

It was a nice day, but talks of mayhem and fictitious monsters had a way of putting a damper on things.

“Here.” Graham shrugged out of his uniform jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

He tugged it tight about her when she looked of a mind to pull it off to avoid gossip of all things. She wasn’t quite aware of it but they suddenly had much bigger fish to fry.

He gave in to the sudden urge and pressed a kiss to her forehead, surprising her. He gripped her by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eye.

“Don’t die.”

Regina smirked, somewhat bemused at his affection, especially since there was no audience to play to, and nodded her head.

“I always endeavour not to.”

“You wouldn’t know it by the way you often acted.” He gripped the lapels of his jacket around her shoulders and watched her intently.

“I’ve mellowed in my old age. I’m a mother now. Have to behave myself.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Something of a smile ghosted about his mouth.

“Never.”

He gave into whatever urge had been plaguing him and his hand slid around the back of her neck. He tugged her forward a staggered step and crushed her mouth under his in a stunning and burning kiss that made her tingle all the way down to her toes. He kissed her like he’d never see her again.

“See you at the diner. I’ll be an hour. Tops.” He broke away, his breath coming fast and hard, and Regina was in no better a state.

“Uh…kay.” Regina blinked rapidly and pried her fingers from their fisting in his shirt.

She watched him with a kind of stunned disassociation when he went back to the truck and hurled himself up into the driver’s seat again. The engine thrummed, startling her with its sudden snarl from her slightly twitterpated state, and she waved inanely when he drove off.

She finally dropped her hand when she realised it was still raised and the truck had already rounded the bend, disappearing off who knew where.

She looked down and dusted off her skirt suddenly, she wished idly for her compact to see if he had smudged her makeup with his admittedly impressive kisses, and tugged his jacket closer about her still. The alpine smell of him seemed so familiar, even blended though it was with coffee and sugar and something so base and male as to go without name.

Regina’s fingers ghosted over her lips when they still burned and she tried to shake herself from it.

It meant nothing.

She turned and started through the school gates.

He had done it because of thirty five years of habit, pretending to be affectionate to her and satisfying her every carnal whim. It had been nearly a fortnight now since they had slaked their hunger on one another. For a couple who had become accustomed to having one another when and where they desired whenever the opportunity presented itself, it was a hell of a dry spell. No wonder that his body was making demands of him. She was his usual target, after all. His head might hate her, but his body certainly never had.

Regina dusted off a patch of wooden bench by the table outside the school and settled herself to wait at a healthy distance from the other parents that were slowly beginning to gather and wait for their own children.

That must be why he had done it. Marking his territory. She had been unaware of anyone bearing witness to them being seen together but he had obviously seen the gaggle of gawkers and decided to play to them accordingly. Though how he had seen them, behind the school walls and around the corner, she didn’t know.

Regina sat on the bench and ignored them all.

She was an unusual addition, she did not usually wait on the school grounds for Henry if she came to pick him up, she usually sat aloof and distant in her car, and she certainly never did it whilst wearing the Sheriff’s jacket. Yet another thing she was probably going to hear about at the next town council meeting.

That must have been why he had done it.

That must be it.

Why else would he kiss her, after all?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Crossing Boundaries**

 

_**Outside the School, Now…** _

 

Regina waited somewhat impatiently for the bell to ring to announce the end of the day for the school’s pupils.

She had been subjected to the stares and pointed mutterings of the gathering throng of parents and she didn’t even have her phone with her so that she might play a meaningful game of solitaire whilst she waited. She’d been there for twenty minutes solid and was debating on whether or not it would be worth putting up with them if she were to go over there and torment someone for her entertainment.

Henry and Graham would be disappointed in her but at least she wouldn’t be bored.

Regina shifted and drew Graham’s coat fully over her chest, it was cooler now that she sat in the shadow of the school building and she wasn’t walking around or pressed up against Graham. She hadn’t realised how much time she had spent doing that recently until she found herself without the belting power of his body heat.

Something clunked against her elbow and Regina turned her attention more fully onto the coat itself. Seeing an inside pocket, she dipped her hand inside and frowned when she came across something cool and solid.

Lifting it partially out, Regina’s brows rose when she saw a full sized bowie knife secreted into the lining of his jacket, the antler haft of it worn smooth with years of use. How long had he had THAT there?

“Is that a sword?”

Regina’s head snapped up and she shoved the knife back into its hidden sheath all in one move. She blinked when she saw the little boy sitting calmly across from her.

She slid a glance over at the parents waiting for their children and frowned. Had the bell rung and she’d missed it?

“No.” She answered belatedly. “It’s a knife.”

“Really? It’s pretty big for a knife.”

“Hmm.” Regina cast about the schoolyard.

No, the bell couldn’t have rung, there were no other children pouring out of the doors of the school…so why was this boy here?

“Why does the sheriff have a knife in his pocket?”

“What is a little boy like you doing out of school when he should be in class?” Regina asked instead.

“Oh, that.” The boy scrubbed a hand through his hair that stood straight up as if in an attempt to flatten it. The hair was smoothed down for only a moment before springing back upright again in a gross defiance of gravity. “I get let out of class fifteen minutes early so the other kids don’t beat me up on my way home. That’s the theory anyway.”

Regina straightened in her seat and a frown stole over her features.

“You are bullied.”

“Well, I suppose the other kids think it’s a game rather than a serious detriment to my sociological development, but…yeah.” He grinned at her and held out his hand. “I’m Norman.”

“Hello, Norman. I’m Regina.” Regina leaned across the table and took his hand in hers, she tried to cover the wince she felt when his handshake jolted her wound but he was immediately contrite.

“I’m sorry! That was dumb. I shoulda known you wouldn’t be completely better.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” Regina mustered a smile from somewhere and Norman gave a cautious one in return.

She studied him a moment. He was small for his age like Henry, skinny, that shock of black hair he had standing straight up from his head in a permanent parody of caricatured horror. His eyes were pale blue and sparked with evident intelligence and his smile was nervous but quite endearing when he let it reach his eyes. His uniform was old and well mended, too big for him and his hooded jacket and backpack out of fashion (if ten year old boys had a fashion).

Orphan.

The word whispered harsh and condemning in her head, the shade of her mother, and Regina slapped it to the back of her thoughts and focussed on Norman instead.

“Was it scary?” He was asking her. “When that man attacked you?”

Regina blinked at him, surprised he would ask about it.

She knew that the parents over yonder had been murmuring about it for as long as she had been sitting there but –unsurprisingly- none of them had come over to enquire about her health. Norman, it would seem, did not share their reticence.

“It was very scary.” Regina nodded.

“Is that why you’ve got the knife?” Norman nodded to Graham’s jacket and Regina sat forward, folding her arms onto the table and mulled him over.

“I shouldn’t have a knife in my pocket.”

“Yeah and I shouldn’t have a brick in my bag, but both of us wanna walk around safe, right?”

The laugh caught Regina by surprise and Norman’s startled smile let her know he’d never expected it of her either. She smiled at him and ignored the out and out staring they were getting from the parents across the way.

“Yes, we do.” She finally sobered after a long moment. “Are you in Henry’s class?”

“No. I’ve seen him around but we’ve never spoken. He keeps mostly to himself.”

“I know.” Regina looked down at her hands, guilt gnawing at her. She had done that, made her boy an outsider in his own town. Still, at least he didn’t have to leave class early so he avoided getting beaten up on his way home.

“He seems nice though. He likes to read.” Norman sounded like he was trying to comfort her and her heart melted a tiny bit for him. “So he’s not, you know, a moron.”

Regina laughed again and he looked like he’d won a medal because of it.

“Who beats you up?” She sobered after a moment. “Why have the teachers done nothing more than let you out early?”

“Seems a bit more like curing the symptoms than treating the cause, right?” Norman twisted a rueful smile. “I suppose they’d expel the kids that did it if that didn’t mean they’d be expelling half the student body.”

“Really? That many?”

Norman shrugged.

“And…no one does anything?”

“They try.” Norman shrugged. He turned and looked over at the staring parents and waved. Many of them looked away. It was then that Regina saw the bruise on the side of his neck. Finger bruises, like someone had grabbed him by the scruff and thrown him.

She’d seen bruises like that on her own neck from time to time growing up. Her mother had not always used magic to force Regina to do her bidding…though she had always said that using magic was so much more _ladylike_.

“They should try harder.” Regina’s voice came out with more steel than she had intended and Norman shot a look at her, wide eyed.

He softened and smiled again, shrugging a shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.”

“The point is that you shouldn’t have to.” Regina clipped out suddenly angry and realising after a moment that –for once- it was perfectly understandable for her to be so.

How dare the teachers who were supposed to protect him slap such a band aid solution on such a horrible problem? They were getting paid weren’t they? She should know, she had to deal with the migraine of the annual budget meetings for three weeks out of her year. EVERY year.

“What they gonna do? Tell the shmucks I tattled, make things even worse for me? Get the kids in trouble for fighting at school? At least if they fight at school there’s usually someone to break it up for me. Somebody jumps me in a back alley and it doesn’t end so quickly.” Norman shrugged his skinny shoulders again. “It’s not great, but it’s better than it could be.”

Regina sat there, staring at him, and had a very strong urge to give him the knife in her pocket.

“Norman, that’s awful. You’re a ten year old boy, things should not be this way for you.”

“You’re the Mayor. Guys shouldn’t be mugging you in the street either, but here we are.” Norman shrugged and then nodded to the badge on her borrowed coat lapel. “No offence to your boyfriend or nothing.”

“He’s not…”

“Really?” Norman arched a brow at her and Regina twisted her mouth and silenced herself.

“Fair enough.” She nodded. “But my situation is different. I’m mean and horrible and everyone hates me because of it. What have you done to deserve being punched and kicked on your way home from school?”

“There’s usually sticks and stones too.” Norman said matter-of-factly and then shrugged again. “I think it’s mostly because I talk to things that aren’t there. I’m different and kids don’t like it. Of course they’re going to beat me up.”

“I’m here and you’re talking to me.” Regina shifted in her chair and watched him intently. “What do you mean ‘things that aren’t there’?”

“Ghosts, mostly.” Norman huffed out a sigh at having it pulled from him. “Some animals….ghost animals.”

Regina watched him hold himself terribly still for long moments. Waiting for her to deride him, reject him, terrified that she would be what everyone else was to him.

“Any good conversation to be had?”

Norman’s eyes shot to hers and Regina didn’t smirk, she looked at him perfectly seriously. She jerked her head towards the parents across the yard and finally smiled a little.

“It’s not like the live ones have much to say for themselves after all.”

Norman grinned and stifled his laugh as best he could. His smile slowly drained away and he frowned.

“You…you believe me?”

“I’ve never seen a ghost,” Regina allowed, “but I’ve never seen anything proving that they don’t exist either and I have definitely come across animals that understood every word that I have spoken to them. It’s not so farfetched to me that someone might understand what they would say in return.”

She did not add that she was one of those someones. He would only think that she was patronising him. Maybe another day she would prove that she wasn’t but not today.

“Really?” Regina smiled a little sadly. “My first friend was an animal.”

She shrugged her shoulder and looked at her hands. She didn’t often open up to people (or ever really) but this little boy…he was hurting. She could blame Henry. Maternal instincts could be a bitch once roused.

“I didn’t have…anyone, growing up. All I had was Frostfire, he was my pony. He…he understood me. Every word that I said to him. I suppose it was just as well that not everyone can understand animals because I told him everything. All my secrets. He was a VERY clever pony.”

“Grey pony?”

Regina’s eyes flashed to his.

“Blue eyes? That’s weird for a horse, right?”

“It’s called wall-eye.” Regina said slowly and Norman nodded.

“I’ve seen him around. Following Henry actually. He seems nice.” Regina stared at him.

For a full minute she just stared at him. She stared at him even when his face fell and his shoulders hunched.

“You didn’t believe me. Of course you didn’t. You were just saying so because you felt _sorry_ for me.” He spat the word like it was caustic and threw himself from his bench, rounding the table and hunching his backpack higher on his shoulders.

“Norman, wait!” Regina reached out, gripping his wrist as he passed. She gasped in pain when he didn’t stop and he wrenched her painfully sideways. He spun back, her hand falling from his wrist and stared at her, hunched over, her hand pressed to her wound on her chest. She seethed out a breath, aware that people were staring.

“Come here, sweetie.” Regina reached out and took his hand in hers, drawing him back to the bench to sit beside her. “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, it’s that you surprised me. I didn’t think that Frost would have followed me for all this time. The way he died…it was my fault.”

“He doesn’t think so. He loved you. A lot.”

“And I him.” Regina looped her arm through his and smiled down at the boy. “I believe you. Really. I do.”

Norman looked at her as if she had just reached up and taken a slice out of the sun and handed it to him.

“Re…really?”

“Truly.” Regina squeezed his arm and realised then exactly what she had done to Henry. When she had denied him, told him he was talking crazy…what a horrid thing to have done. To her own son no less. “I believe you and I’m going to help you.”

Norman scoffed and shrugged on a rueful smile.

“Thanks for the offer, but…”

“No. I’m the Mayor my…boyfriend is the Sheriff so I’m pretty sure, between the three of us, we can figure out how to get you from school to home safely.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once.” Norman gave her a sceptical look.

Good gods, how many adults had let him down up until now that he was so disbelieving about her being able to help him?

“I don’t have to be.” She smiled for him and held onto him when he made to bolt when the school bell rang loudly, echoing throughout the yard. “I just have to be where you are.”

“I gotta go. They…I shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

“Don’t worry. I’m here.” Regina held him in place. “Don’t be afraid. If you’re afraid, they win. If you’re afraid, they own you.”

“If I’m afraid and I run, I don’t get beat up.”

“That is sound logic.” Regina nodded, watching the kids pour out of the school, keeping a weather eye on those that stared at them a little too long, memorising their faces. “Though there are worse things that being beaten.”

“Not in my experience.” Norman looked at her like she was crazy.

“I’m glad.” Regina managed a smile. “Now, what we’re going to do, is…”

“Mom!”

Regina lifted her head and turned with a smile.

“Hi, honey.” Regina levered herself to her feet and accepted his hug, nearly clunking him on the head with her cast. Damn, she had to get used to that.

“Where’s Graham?”

“He had…things to do. Sheriff related I believe.” Well, they could be for all she knew. “We’re going to meet him at the diner.”

“After my haircut?”

“I was actually thinking of giving that a miss today.” She tousled his admittedly overlong hair and smiled at his giggle. “I was thinking we could all go for ice cream instead and wait to meet Graham.”

“All?” Henry looked up at her with confusion and Regina stepped aside waving behind her and turning to beckon her new friend over.

“Yes, Norman is welcome to…” Regina trailed off when she found the bench empty of one particular little boy.

She turned on the spot, scanning the schoolyard for his distinctive head of hair and couldn’t see him amongst the Crayola mob of students. She couldn’t see Norman or his green backpack anywhere.

“Damn.” She murmured.

“Mom?” Henry appeared at her side looking at the bench with her. “You lose something?”

“Odd.” Regina turned away from the bench and looked down at Henry. “He was just here, I was going to invite him to come with us.”

“Who was?”

“A little boy –about your age- called Norman.”

“Ten isn’t little, mom.” Henry informed her.

“Ten is tiny.” Well, considering she was over sixty it certainly was. “He had blue eyes and black hair that stuck straight up. Do you know him?”

“Oh!” Henry’s chin kicked up in a nod of acknowledgement. “That’s Para-Norman.”

“Pardon?”

“Para-Norman, it’s what the other kids call him. He’s even crazier than I am.”

“Henry!”

“What?!” Henry held his hands out and hunched his shoulders. “It’s true!”

Regina looked down at him for a long moment and her shoulders seemed to stiffen under a weight that Henry couldn’t see but she could quite obviously feel. She looked troubled.

“Did I really teach you such cruelty?”

“N-no.” Henry was caught off-guard by her baleful look. He looked down at his toes and scuffed at the concrete with his shoe. “You’ve been a good mom.”

“Do you enjoy it when the other children call you crazy?”

“No.” Henry looked stubbornly away from her and she bent at the waist, resting her good hand on her knee to prop herself up and turned him back to face her with the fingers of her casted hand.

“Then shouldn’t you have a little more empathy for a boy so much like yourself?”

“I don’t talk to myself!”

“But you do believe in fairy tales. You believe that your teacher is Snow White, that a coma patient is Prince Charming and that your own mother is the Evil Queen.”

“But that’s all real!”

“Who’s to say that Norman’s voices aren’t all real too?” Regina looked him dead in the eye, letting him think on that for a moment. “Do you really think that this world has science enough to explain everything that happens in it in ways that we can understand?”

Henry looked at his shoes again and smirked.

“What?” Regina couldn’t hold her stoop anymore and had to straighten instead. She huffed out a slow breath.

“I’d forgotten how nice you could be.” Henry looked away and shrugged. “Made myself forget.”

Regina was stunned for a stretched moment and then mustered a lopsided smile.

“Well,” she settled her hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the school gates, “I don’t do it very often so I suppose you can be forgiven. Now, I believe someone mentioned ice cream.”

Henry grinned and bounded along beside her. She smiled at his antics and it became slightly fixed at his next excited announcement.

“Then we can talk!”

Regina let out a slow breath and nodded wearily.

“At home. We can talk about it at home.” She watched his face become mistrustful and didn’t blame him one bit. “It is a very long conversation and…can I have one more? One more afternoon of just being your mother.”

Henry’s mouth twisted and he considered her carefully. The rest of the school had pretty much emptied and they stood several paces apart now. She supposed if he ran from her now, there would be a limited pool of witnesses to this fresh humiliation. He smiled suddenly.

“I guess so.” She smiled and it slipped from her face a little when she spotted a familiar figure headed for the school gates, head ducked, trying to avoid her.

“Miss Blanchard!”

Henry groaned and tried to stop her but Regina had already passed him and was bearing down on his teacher with a purpose. Miss Blanchard cringed to a halt, her shoulders hunching a little, and she turned back to Regina. She pulled a smile from somewhere and tried to project that serene aura of hers that drove Regina wild. She ignored it, she had bigger fish to impale on a pike at that moment.

“Madam Mayor, good to see you up and around again. I hadn’t heard that you were…in public once more.”

“Yes, yes, rumours of my grim demise were grossly exaggerated, cancel the parties.” Regina waved it away. “I need to talk to you about one of the students in this school.”

“Really? Uh, well, you’d really have to direct any complaints about their conduct to the principal and then he can contact the parents…”

“No.” Regina cut the other woman off sharply. “There is a boy in Henry’s year, his name is Norman, who is his teacher?”

“Uh…Norman…” Mary Margaret looked so sorely put on the spot the vacant tundra that was her head was obviously even without a sparse tumbleweed of thought to populate it.

“Para-Norman.” Henry took pity on her and Mary Margaret’s face brightened in recognition.

“Oh, that Norman!” She mulled it over and frowned. “Norman Parr, I think his name his, he’s in, uh, Missus Cake’s class.”

“Missus Cake.” Regina rolled the name about her mouth and her eyebrow arched a little bit. “Inform Missus Cake that she has a four thirty appointment with me at the diner tomorrow.”

“You…you want me to go to Missus Cake and…and… _inform_ her that she has an appointment?”

“With me. At the diner.”

“You…I didn’t know you were back to work so soon.” Mary Margaret hedged and Regina narrowed her eyes a fraction.

“Are you afraid of her?”

“I…I think ‘wary’ is a better description of it.” Mary Margaret nodded to herself.

Regina stepped closer to Mary Margaret and looked deep into her eyes, deep enough to see the hazy film of the curse there, obscuring Snow’s personality and leaving behind the meek Mary Margaret. She gave the film a bit of a…tug.

She might not be able to conjure fireballs or lightning, she might not be able to heal her wounds and restrain her Huntsman anymore, but some things were just basic headology.

“Dig deep, Miss Blanchard, find your spine. I KNOW you have one.” Regina bit out. “There is a little boy whose life is a living hell because of the ineptitude of the adults around him and I will not STAND for it. Do you understand?”

Mary Margaret gathered herself and gave a careful nod. She seemed to straighten a little and then nodded more confidently.

“Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“And you’ll make sure she’s there?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Regina was suddenly all smiles and Mary Margaret was taken completely by surprise.

As she always was when the Mayor pulled such a switch. It was always easy to forget that she could be pleasant. She could be wonderful…so long as you did exactly what she wanted.

“Well, you have a pleasant evening.” Regina reached out her hand and Henry appeared under it so her fingers could rest on his shoulder. “Say goodbye, Henry.”

“Goodbye Henry.” Henry dutifully parroted and Regina smirked down at him.

“Goodbye, Henry, Madam Mayor.”

They turned away and Mary Margaret watched them go with a sensation much like she had just had a near death experience.

She huffed out a breath and headed for the other gate. Every time she thought she had a handle on Regina and her mercurial moods, she went and threw her another curve ball. Mary Margaret had never known Regina to even look twice at a child not her own and now she had a sudden interest in Norman being bullied? It wasn’t even an election year. She heaved a sigh and gladly decided that it was all about to be Missus Cake’s problem.

Out the other gates of the school, Henry bounded with his limitless energy at Regina’s side and told her about the massive sundae they were going to have when they got to Granny’s. It was going to have every flavour known to man in it and they were going to have a spoon each and he was going to let her have most of it ‘cause she needed to get her strength back and obviously ice cream would cure all her ills.

Regina smiled and listened to him babble, amazed at what a simple promise to talk with him had gained her. He was no longer the completely innocent little boy she’d had before the book, but that didn’t mean to say he was ruined. He spoke animatedly with her, even if it was about something so nonsensical as ice cream, and she delighted in the conversation.

She saw his shadow first.

To begin with, she thought it was a trick of the light. A side effect from her medications. A speck of dust in her eye…anything other than what it was.

Regina’s attention wavered from Henry’s conversation and she didn’t crane her head about but she did widen her awareness of her surroundings to their fullest extent.

This wasn’t right. Something was wrong. She was suddenly cold, that shadow falling over her very definitely and…footsteps. Footsteps she could feel but not hear. Footsteps following in the wake of hers.

Regina glanced in the wing mirror of a car parked on the street as they passed it and she very nearly screamed when she caught a hint of gigantic denim clad legs. Regina spun on one heel, her hand lifted and her eyes rising to see…nothing.

Nobody was there.

“Mom? You okay?”

Regina realised belatedly that her hand was clawed as if she could still conjure fire to it and she dropped it sharply to her side. She turned to face Henry and froze when she saw the grassy verge between the sidewalk and the street. Ice water poured through her.

Footprints.

Gigantic, boot shaped, footprints.

“Henry,” her voice was a harsh croak, “take my hand.”

“Oh…kay.” Henry hesitantly put his hand in hers and she clasped it tightly in her own.

She began to walk once more at a much faster clip and she could feel him now. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the great impressions of a huge stride flattening the grass alongside them. She could see his warped reflection –as high as his knees- in the polished hulls of the cars they passed and Regina doubled her pace.

“Mom, wait.”

“It’s alright.” Regina knew her voice was strangled but the afternoon was suddenly cold, the sun having hidden behind a cloud and she frantically searched for an escape.

They couldn’t outrun him. His stride was three yards long, he’d run them down in two steps.

“Mom, what is it?”

Regina looked wildly around for an escape, an ally, it was over a block to Granny’s and she knew they weren’t going to make it that far. Regina’s eye caught on a familiar flash of yellow and she didn’t think she just moved.

“Miss Swan!”

“Aw, mom, really?” Henry groaned even as he let himself be dragged out between parked cars, onto the street and into the path of an oncoming one.

Leroy slammed on the brakes, missing Regina by inches. He leaned hard on the horn and Regina jolted in surprise. She turned to the truck, a fierce glare on her features and snarled at him.

“Asshole!” Regina lifted one foot and kicked the fender of his truck. Hard.

Leroy yelped when the airbag went off in his face and Regina, too highly strung to spare him a second glance, carried right on where she was headed.

“Mom!” Henry was dragged right out into the middle of the street then, running to keep up with his mom’s clipping jog. Her hand was white knuckled on his, she kept looking half behind herself and then wrenching her head back around to face front. She was scared and she had sworn. Henry didn’t think he’d ever heard his mom curse before.

“Miss Swan!” Regina arrived at the Yellow Bug just as the deputy was swinging her way up out of the driver’s seat. She clapped the driver’s side door closed at the same time as Regina opened the passenger side.

“Uh, hello?”

“Henry, get in.” Regina hauled the front seat forward and practically threw Henry into the back of the tiny car.

She could feel him getting closer. Oh god, Graham was right. She couldn’t hear his steps, she could only feel him coming. Had she imagined that rush of air? Like the swinging of a great axe? Her side throbbed, that wound that he had given her in the dream world hurting very much like she had suffered it in the real world.

“Regina, what’s going on?” Emma looked over at her and Regina had to think that it was fairly obvious.

“You’re driving us home.”

“Listen, I know you kind of have something going with Graham, but I’m not a taxi service so…”

“Get. In. The. CAR.” Regina bit out through bared teeth and then hurled herself into the passenger side, leaning over and flinging open the driver’s side door. When Emma bent down to look at her, she grabbed the deputy by her stupid silver necklace and hauled her bodily into the car.

“Hey!” Emma crashed into the seat and would have upended her coffee all over herself had Regina not neatly relieved her of it. “What the hell?!”

“Drive us home.” Regina waved at the wheel somewhat frantically. “Now.”

“God, calm down.” Emma glared at her and managed to get both legs into the car and sit somewhat normally in the chair. “Where’s the fire?”

“Please hurry.” Regina turned to grip her seatbelt and froze at what she saw out of the window.

Well, see was inaccurate. What she could feel however, terrorised her into a violent shiver. Her teeth chattered together. He was there. He was right there. Right outside the flimsy window and the paltry shell of this poorly manufactured car. She thought about the casual strength with which he’d swung his axe into her tree, nearly felling it with a single blow from just a flick of his wrist. He’d crush this car like the beetle it was named for.

“Drive!” Regina spun back to Emma, forgetting about her seatbelt. “Drive now.”

“Regina, calm down, whatever…”

“NOW, Emma!” Regina almost screamed at her, her hand rising to do who knew what and the engine roared to life.

That seemed to snap the blonde out of whatever questions she had and she fumbled the car into gear and pulled out of the space she’d parked in.

Regina sat back in her seat, her hand pressed to her chest, hoping the damp there was sweat and not more blood because her chest certainly hurt enough for her to have pulled her stitches apart.

She felt the pressure of his presence fade behind them and began to breathe easier. She braced herself against the dash and closed her eyes, focussing on her breathing. She ignored both Henry and Emma’s questions, focussing instead on the more pertinent problem.

How was she supposed to get the keys into the ignition without Emma realising that they hadn’t been there when the car had started?

 

_**The Woods…** _

 

Graham hopped down out of his truck and inhaled deeply. The sharp scent of pine and fresh air sucked into his lungs and he let it all out on a slow whoosh. He looked about himself. He was on an abandoned stretch of dirt track. As deep into the woods as he could drive. He would usually have hiked up here –would have relished it- but he didn’t have the time.

He looked down the track then as deep into the woods as his eyes could see in all directions. He stretched his other senses taut, pushing them to their maximum and listened and scented carefully of the forest around him.

So very much like home.

Well, not the Blackwood, but the home where he had grown into an adult. The home where he had hidden and learned to pretend to be a man.

Once he was sure he was alone, and only then, did he begin to strip.

He unbuttoned his waistcoat and tossed it in through the open truck window, his tie followed next and his shirt closely after that. He stripped even his white tank top away and pondered why the hell he wore so many layers. He hopped from one foot to the other, yanking off his boots and socks and decided to leave his pants on.

His senses were not what they once were, if he did come across a local, being half naked would be hard enough to explain. Full nudity nigh unto impossible.

Graham sucked in a few deep breaths and orientated himself. He was high above the town, towards the Northern most point of the boundary. There was a bluff high above him that he needed to get to. The acoustics there would be best.

Then he took off at a run.

It was hard going, he was out of practice. Luckily for him, the curse had frozen him in the same condition he had been in when it had been cast so his strength and stamina were in no way diminished but _damn_ running was hard.

There had been a time when he had run barefoot and wild every single day. Even when in Regina’s clutches as her Huntsman she had loosed him in the woods for at least a day most weeks, seemingly for the sole reasoning of missing him and fawning over him when he came back like the good little pet he was.

Graham’s breathing was harsh, his arms felt wrong moving at his sides. He stumbled readily and cursed softly to himself but pushed himself harder. He didn’t have _time_ to faff around with easing back into it. He needed to be the Huntsman NOW.

Graham sucked in the scents of the forest, felt the damp of impending rain cold against his skin. He absorbed the feel of the earth gritty and clinging to his feet, the slap of branches against his chest and arms when he crashed through him. He snarled and ran faster.

This was ridiculous. He was the Huntsman. Scourge of the Enchanted Forest, warhound of the Evil Queen. He had been unstoppable in the greenwood. A wraith in the night, a shiver in the spine, the shadow in the corner of the eye. He had been the wolf…the wolf at the door. Graham growled from deep in his chest and suddenly he was in it.

His body became fluid and lithe, like he had never stopped hunting. His arms moved perfectly in synch with his legs, his balance shifting and focussing, conforming to the twisting roots and rough ground beneath him. He slid through the branches soundlessly, not even knocking the dew gathered on them to the forest floor.

His heart thundered in his chest but it was the thunder of excitement rather than exhaustion. His entire body throbbed with every thump of his pulse through his muscles and sinews. His senses exploded and he was suddenly that creature. Not a man and not a wolf but that had never meant that he was weak.

His pupils flashed silver when he ran whisper quiet through the shafted shadows of the trees, his teeth –when bared in his chuckling growl of a grin- were just a little too sharp and he ran twice as fast as any other man.

Graham poured on the speed, rejoicing to be himself once more. To finally fit the shattered pieces of his head into some semblance of unity –even if it was just for this run- and he laughed. A dark and echoing sound in the trees that bounced around and seemed to come from everywhere at once.

He felt the two ragged halves of himself, the Huntsman and the Sheriff, reconcile with one another. He felt them gel and fit together, the bleed into one another. The two lives circling one another in his head, snarling for dominance, blended into one and –for the first time in days- he felt something like peaceful.

He was entirely himself again.

Graham hurdled the last boulder and hit the rocky slope right up to the summit overlooking the town. He slithered to a halt, chest heaving with panting breaths, and only then did his grin slip away. When he remembered what he had come here for.

He took a moment, to catch his breath and overlook his town.

He frowned a little at that. His town. He had not thought himself overly attached to it, in all honesty, but he found that he had ties here. Regina, Henry, even that bizarre sense of fealty –of duty- that the Graham side of him felt to the people and buildings sprawled out far beneath him.

It looked so small and fragile from up here. The buildings like cardboard cut-outs, the cars like crawling beetles with bright carapaces and the people barely discernible even with his keen vision.

Graham sobered when he realised the Woodcutter would tear through all of it like a scythe through wheat. He might not feel attached to this town with his whole self, but he knew that he had a responsibility to finish what he had started. To put to sleep the monster he had wakened.

The dead wolf, the pelt, had told him that he was to be the Wolf At the Door. That he was to take over that ancient wolf’s war. Of course, the pelt had told him that whilst in the Enchanted Forest. Where there was magic that Graham could apparently access to help him defeat the Woodcutter. Magic he could not get to now.

Yet another reason he had to break the curse.

Still, he had given his word that Regina nor Henry would come to harm whilst he was there to protect them. He had to defeat the Woodcutter, had to destroy him, he wasn’t going to let a paltry thing like lack of magic get him down.

He wasn’t a wolf and he wasn’t a man but perhaps he could be enough of both to get this done.

With that in mind, Graham threw back his head and howled.

His voice remembered the call as easily as the rest of his body had remembered his true self and it rose into the greying sky of the afternoon in a single haunting note. He sucked in a deep breath and howled again, cupping his hands to his face and changing the pitch and tone in a way that his very human vocal cords could not manage by themselves. He composed the message as best he could. Out of practice, but he was almost certain he had gotten the wording right.

Graham stilled, listening intently. He kept his mouth open, breathing hard in taut anticipation, waiting for an answer. Counting off the seconds using his beating heart as a metronome.

Nothing.

Graham sagged a little and then shook it off. No. He wasn’t going to give up that easily.

He lifted his hands again, cupping them to his mouth and then froze when there, far in the distance, a lone howl rose above the trees.

Graham went completely stock still, listening as hard as he could. Translating note by note.

Slowly, a smile spread over his face.

He waited until the message was done and then howled his reply. Waiting impatiently for theirs.

Again and again, he howled to the wolves beyond Storybrooke and they joined him in song. He spoke to them far longer than he had intended and it wasn’t until he measured the shadow he cast against the ground and realised how much time had passed that he jolted from the conversation mid-sentence.

He howled a hasty goodbye, promising to meet them at the agreed time and then spun on his heel, sprinting back into the trees and racing for his truck.

Regina and Henry would be waiting and he had no desire to leave them alone any longer than he had to.

Not with the Woodcutter abroad.

 

_**The Mayoral Mansion…** _

 

“Well, we’re here…” Emma trailed off when Regina had already flung open the door to the beetle and hurled herself out of it.

She threw the passenger seat forward and almost dragged a protesting Henry from the backseat, shoving him up the garden path with an unquestionable order to open the front door and get inside.

“You’re welcome.” Emma muttered to the empty car and threw open her door, hauling herself out and rounding the car to watch Regina’s latest episode unfold.

Even she was a little surprised to see the Mayor move to the front of her car and fling open the hood, revealing the trunk underneath.

“Hey!”

“I’m borrowing this.” Regina held up a crowbar (that Emma kept for purely legal reasons she swore) and nodded to the ground. “You dropped your keys.”

Emma glanced down and frowned. Hell she didn’t even remember taking them out of the ignition. Emma straightened in time to see Regina attacking her garden path with the crowbar.

“Hey, crazy lady!” Emma bounded over and snatched the crowbar away from Regina. “You’re gonna pop a stitch and I do NOT want to be on the business end of Graham and Henry both when they find out you got carted back to the hospital under my watch.”

“I am not under your watch.” Regina snapped and reached up, shoving her hair back impatiently and leaving it uncharacteristically rumpled.

“Oh, sure, they’re really gonna see it that way.” Emma nodded and held the crowbar in both hands. Regina sure as hell was twitchy today. “Alright, fine, help me then.”

Regina stepped aside and pointed to the stone she had been methodically knocking loose.

“Prise it up.”

“Really?” Emma arched a brow but Regina’s thunderous expression changed her mind about playing twenty questions. “Alright, alright. Just don’t sue me for property damage or something.”

“Hurry.” Regina practically hopped from one foot to the other.

Emma rolled her eyes, working the iron under the stone and prying it up out from between its fellows. Must be the drugs, she mused. Made her scattier than usual.

“Flip it over.” Regina crouched down at Emma’s sides, her good hand joining Emma’s in turning the white stone over onto its back. “Move.”

Emma was surprised when Regina just shooed her out of the way and actually waited for her to move rather than bodily shoving her. She was a little too absorbed in sweeping the dirt and bugs from the underside of the stone to pay Emma any mind though.

Emma’s interest was perked when she saw carvings on the other side of the stone. It looked kind of like writing, but no writing that Emma had ever seen before. There was a strange star or flower shape in the middle, branching out into the writing. Regina used her fingers to clear as much away from the engravings as best she could and even stooped down to blow it away.

Seeing how frantic she was, Emma pulled the neckerchief from around her throat and scrubbed it over the stone, ignoring Regina’s surprised gaze on the side of her head.

Like that, cleaning the stone went much quicker and Regina nodded once.

“Thank you, now, don’t make a fuss.” Regina held her hand over the stone and made a fist. Her teeth bared when her knuckles whitened and Emma was confused for a moment before she saw the droplets of red welling from between Regina’s fingers and pattering onto the stone.

“Hey!” Emma reached to grab her hand but Regina’s cast clunked across her collar bone and put paid to that idea pretty quickly. “Graham is going to KILL me!”

“I’ll explain when he gets here.” Regina measured her blood dripping onto the stone and finally relaxed her hand when she deemed it enough. “Alright. That should hold it.”

She murmured mostly to herself. She pressed the fingers of her bandaged hand to the stone and focussed hard for a moment.

“Urgh!” Emma grimaced when she was shocked with static electricity from the stone and her ears popped rudely at the same time.

Using Emma as a ladder, Regina hauled herself to her feet, panting with the effort and panic. She staggered on the path and Emma stood too.

“You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Not particularly.” Regina headed for the manor and then hunched her shoulders.

She turned back, gripped Emma by the wrist and then hauled her over the threshold of the garden gate. Emma blinked and shivered when she felt like she’d just slipped between the wires of an electric fence and narrowly avoided being burned. Regina didn’t look happy about it, but she gave Emma’s wrist one last tug as an indication to follow her and turned away, hurrying to the house.

She clattered up the steps in her heels and reached down with her bloodied hand picking up a seemingly artistically placed rock on her steps and switching its place with its brother on the opposite side. She left bloody handprints on both.

Oh yeah, Graham was going to lose his cool big time when he spotted those.

Regina kicked both stones so they were flush against the frame of the front door. There was another strange crackle of static electricity and then Regina opened the door and disappeared inside.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Emma flicked the door shut behind herself and flinched bodily when another snap of power rattled through the air.

Damn, did they need the wiring looked at?

She turned back to find Regina watching her with an unreadable expression on her face. She seemed to give the question a great deal of consideration before dismissing it entirely.

“I need to clean my hand.” She spun away, heading for the kitchen. “I need to call Graham.”

“Regina!” Emma hurried after her and stalled in the kitchen when she saw her struggling with one of the cupboards. she was cradling her injured hand close to her chest and trying to reach into the cupboard with the inflexibility of her casted arm.

“Oh, for the luvva…” Emma crossed the kitchen, gripped Regina by the shoulders and body steered her into a stool by the island worktop.

She pushed her into it and ignored all protests that Regina summoned. She tore out a wad of kitchen towel from the roll and clapped it into Regina’s palm that she had sliced open with her own manicured nails.

“I can fend for myself.”

“Certain police reports and hospital visits decree otherwise.” Emma’s voice was flat and she turned away, reaching up into the cupboard and pulling down the first aid kit. She snapped it open and –unsurprisingly- found it to be fully stocked to the point of overflowing.

Regina might have a fairly fluid idea of what constituted her own good health, but there was no way she’d let Henry go sore if she could help it. She turned back and let out a wordless sound of frustration when she found Regina crouched down in front of the drawers under the sink, hauling them open one after the other.

“Where the hell is it…?” She was muttering to herself and Emma pinched the bridge of her nose to keep from knocking Regina the fuck out and just putting her to bed. Then she would really get a strip torn out of her from Graham and Henry.

One after the other in a tag team or maybe both at the same time. She wasn’t sure which and had no desire to find out.

“Regina,” Emma kept her voice as calm and as level as she could, “get back in the chair and let me look at your hand.”

“You don’t have your gun, do you?”

“My…? No. I’m off duty, I was under the impression I wouldn’t need it.”

“Oh, how naïve of you. Um…try in that drawer there. I’m sure Graham has one or three secreted about here somewhere.”

“One or three guns?!”

“Maybe more.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. “He’s developed quite an affection for the things.”

“And he keeps them here? In the house? With Henry walking around?”

“Well, it’s not like he uses the boy for target practice!” Regina turned on her knees and hissed at her. “Henry’s not an idiot, no matter who contributed his genetic material to him, he knows better than to even touch a gun.”

“Wow.” Emma muttered and pressed her thumbs to her eyes. “This is nuts.”

“Could you have your little crisis later? I need your help right now.”

“Then get in the damn chair.” Emma gritted.

“Language.” Regina admonished lightly. She fished a large jar out of the drawer and studied the seal on it. It was intact. She gave a manic kind of smile. “Now we’re cooking with gas.”

“I beg of you, do not operate complex machinery right now.”

“A hob might be complex to _you_ , Miss Swan, but some of us are a trifle more domesticated than your average Neanderthal.”

“Hey!” Emma threw her hands wide. “I can cook.”

“Edible food?” Regina rose to her feet and weaved dangerously.

“Alright, that’s it.” Emma took the stool over to Regina and slammed it into the tiles right at her toes. “Sit on the damn chair before I MAKE you sit in it.”

“I’m fine.” Regina growled right back.

“You’re about to keel over.”

“I am not weak!”

“You’re right, you’re not. If it were me, I’d be folded in half on the floor right now crying for the mother that I never had, hell, any other woman would be too. You are made of solid steel, lady, and it’s terrifying him!” Emma pointed over her shoulder and Regina followed her finger to see Henry standing in the doorway, leaning around it so she could only see half of his face. He was chewing on his lip, his eyes wide and over bright.

Regina sagged and let loose a sigh. She looked down to see her bloodied handprints all over the jar she was holding. The small wounds –having been left unchecked- had run blood all the way to her elbow and even she could see the way she weaved unsteadily. She dredged a smile from somewhere and looked up at Henry.

“Come here, honey.” Henry dashed from the doorway to fling his arms around her waist, forgetting in that moment that she still wasn’t at a hundred percent and Regina paled alarmingly for a moment when his shoulder bumped against her wound and his arms cinched about her aching side. “It’s okay.”

She rubbed at his back with the fingers of her casted hand and held out the jar to Swan who accepted it between thumb and forefinger pincered around the wax seal of the lid.

“Why do you go and find my purse for me? It’s got my cell in it. I need to call Graham.”

“Okay.” Henry turned away and ran from the room again, rummaging frantically for her purse that he had carried in with him from the car.

Regina looked over at Emma for a long moment and then, slowly, climbed up onto the stool. Emma knew better than to rub it in and nodded once, turning back to the first aid kit to find what she needed to clean and dress Regina’s fresh wounds.

Henry dashed back into the room, already rummaging in her purse for her cell and thrust it at her, squeaking to a halt in front of her.

“Relax, honey, everything’s going to be okay.” She smiled for him and gave him something else to do. “Dial Graham for me?”

Henry swiped through the phone’s memory and Regina let her tug her hand under the spray of water from the sink. She accepted the already ringing phone from Henry and clapped it awkwardly to her ear, listening to the burring rings of the other end of the line. She thought it was going to ring out, but he finally answered.

“ _Where the hell are you? I said the diner. Did I stutter?_ ”

Emma’s brows raised at the growl that she could hear over even the splashing of the running water. She knew better than to turn and gape.

“No.” Regina gritted with a warning in her tone. She was close enough to the edge as it was, she didn’t need him pushing her over it when the only targets for her wrath were Swan and her son. “We’re at the house. You need to get here.”

“ _You walked all the way there_?!”

“I was given a ride by Miss Swan, she’s right here with me still.” Regina gritted and that seemed to get through to him.

“ _What happened?_ ”

Regina huffed out a breath and thought how to explain with two pairs of sensitive ears in the room.

“He was there.” Regina glanced at Henry and then forced a smile. He didn’t look comforted. Smart boy. “He was right there. Right behind Henry and I. We had to get out of there.”

Emma stiffened in the act of shutting off the faucet and slammed her hands into the edge of the sink, twisting to glare at Regina.

Regina shrugged and listened to Graham instead.

“ _You SAW him_?”

“No.” Regina shivered at the memory. “I saw…his reflection. I felt him, he was there, I’m certain of it. It was him.” Regina heard a thrumming roar through the connection of the phone. The sound of a revving engine.

_“I’m five minutes away. Don’t leave the house until I get there_.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

“ _See that ye are_.” Graham tersely signed off the call and Regina handed her phone back to Henry with another smile.

“He’ll be here soon.”

Henry stood there clutching her purse and watching Emma dry the watered down blood from her hand. She wished there had been a way to do it without bleeding in front of him but they were called blood-locks for a reason.

“Are my pills in there?” Regina gave him something else to do. If he had something to distract him he was less likely to panic.

“This is gonna sting.” It was all the warning Emma gave her before she clapped an alcohol soaked pad over Regina’s scratches.

Regina growled out a sound of pain and shot the other woman a narrow eyed look but otherwise did not react. Emma scoured the cuts clean and then dabbed them dry with more paper towels and finally taped fresh pads in place to protect them from being reopened. It was a hell of an awkward place to be cut, but Regina had been low on options at the time. She hadn’t exactly wanted to reveal that she was carrying a bowie knife in her pocket.

She didn’t think the excuse ‘but it was here when I put the coat on’ would carry much water with the deputy.

“There.” Emma strapped the last piece of tape into place and turned Regina’s hand this way and that to check the fit. “That should hold it.” She released Regina and turned away, cleaning up the mess she had left behind.

Which left Regina looking down at her hand with an extremely nonplussed expression on her face.

“Um…thank you.” Regina muttered after a moment and then jolted in surprise when a small hand was thrust under her nose.

She leaned back and held up her own hand, letting Henry drop two of her pills into them and then thrust a glass of water at her so enthusiastically that she was nearly wearing it. Regina hurriedly knocked the pills back before he got anymore overzealous and smiled for him.

“Alright, I just need to…”Regina froze in the action of sliding down off the stool when both Emma and Henry looked at her with matching unimpressed expressions and arms folded over their chests.

If Regina had ever doubted the veracity of Henry’s claims that Emma truly was his biological mother, she’d have had them confirmed then and there. She scowled.

“Fine.” Regina sat back up on the stool and folded one leg over the other. She nodded to the jar on the worktop, still stained with her blood. “If you would be so kind as to take that outside and pour it over the threshold of the gate?”

“What is it?” Emma looked over at the jar but didn’t pick it up.

“Salt.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. “Amongst other things. You need to pour it from right to left, use ALL of it and don’t open the jar until you’re standing over the stone that we turned.”

Emma gave her a long look. Regina let out a long breath through her nose.

“Call me superstitious.”

“You’re superstitious.” Emma agreed.

“So you CAN follow orders?”

“Mom…” Henry pleaded with worried eyes and she smiled tightly for him, turning back to Emma, speaking through bared teeth.

“Please?”

“Alright, I’ve helped up ‘til now, might as well do the whole circus act.” Emma said mostly to herself and scooped up the jar, holding it by the lid.

“Remember, don’t break the seal until…”

“I got it.” Emma waved a hand over her shoulder at the Mayor and tried to stop herself from stomping with irritation as she left the kitchen.

What the hell was going on? Regina had seen –well, felt- her attacker and she hadn’t told Emma then and there when she might have been able to do something about it?

Then again, Emma opened the front door and stepped out into the path, Regina had been _scared_. Emma had never seen nor imagined she would ever see the Mayor in such a state. Her chest had been heaving, her eyes so wide the white showed all the way around, her teeth had even been chattering.

Emma shivered, it was cold suddenly. The afternoon had clouded over in that perennial grey that Emma had come to associate with typical Storybrooke weather. She’d thought that summer had been on its way since she’d arrived, but apparently not.

Emma stopped over the stone that she and Regina had flipped and did a double take when she saw it was clean.

No blood.

At all.

Emma dropped to a crouch and reached out to touch the stone, just to be sure. She snatched her hand away when an alien tingle snapped at her fingertips. Shit, was it attached to the mains or something?

Emma shook the hurt from her hand and turned her attention back to her appointed task, the sooner she got this done, the sooner she could go back in and maybe act as a buffer between Henry and Regina because she was scaring him.

Not intentionally, Emma was comforted by that in a small way, but Regina was so out of control that she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She was being scatty and crazy and refusing to accept help to the point where she had nearly fallen flat on her face several times.

The refusal to ask for help didn’t surprise Emma in the slightest.

Mayor of a town before thirty? Emma had known that Regina was a fiercely independent type A from the first moment she had seen her…but the fear was new. The fear was worrying.

How bad did this guy have to be that he could scare Regina into asking for Emma’s help?

Up until that afternoon, Emma would have bet on Regina taking another knife to the chest before she voluntarily asked Emma for a ride anywhere.

Emma broke the seal on the jar and did exactly as she was told. No doubt Regina would know if she screwed it up. She poured from right to left, used all of it and even gave the jar a thump on the base to make sure the last of the salt crystals, cloves and miscellaneous chunks tumbled out onto the flagstones. Emma frowned when the air seemed to get curiously filmy for a moment but then the roar of an engine distracted her and she hopped to her feet in time to see Graham’s truck skid to a halt at the front gate.

He hurled himself down out of the driver’s seat and rounded the hood, grinding to a halt only when he saw Emma standing over a line of salt, empty jar in hand.

“Hey.” Emma spoke a little awkwardly, wondering how to explain what was going on.

Graham prowled to a halt on the other side of the line of salt and studied it carefully.

“She really is scared.” Graham spoke mostly to himself. “Good.”

“You know what this is?” Emma waved at the flipped stone, the salt and the symbols with the empty jar. “You can read it?”

“No.” Graham looked up at her and didn’t miss her hastily hidden flinch. He heaved out a breath and softened a little. “I know what it says, but I don’t understand the symbols. It’s…a protection ritual. She’ll have marked it with her blood for family and used the salt for bricks.”

“I never pegged Regina for the superstitious type.”

“No, but I bet you pegged her for the type who would build whole walls to keep people that aren’t her family out.” Graham offered a wary smile and was glad when Emma managed something like one in return.

“She’s really scared, huh?”

“Terrified.” Graham studied the line of salt. “As well she should be.”

“She said he was right there, I didn’t see anyone following her.” Emma put the lid back on the jar.

“You wouldn’t have.” Not yet anyway, not whilst she didn’t believe.

“You know who he is?”

“We suspect.”

“You feel like sharing that information?” Emma asked pointedly. Graham looked up at her and lanced her with that frosted gaze of his. He was surprised when she held it. Not many people could. She went up in his estimations a little.

“Not yet. You’re not ready.”

“Not ready?” Emma asked dangerously.

“Nobody is. Don’t take it personally. It’s best if you don’t know for now.”

“And I’m supposed to just smile and nod whilst an attempted murderer walks about stalking the victim he screwed up with last time?” Emma waved her arm wildly. “While my boss and the mayor know about it and go off on their own little investigation? Listen, you might literally be in bed with the Mayor, but…”

“Too far.” Graham’s voice was steel and Emma looked sharply away from him, her jaw clenched. She turned back after a moment.

“You know this is fucked up. This isn’t how things are supposed to be.”

“I know that, and I know you have no reason to, but I need you to trust us when it comes to this…man. He’s dangerous. We need to be certain it’s him before we do anything. Will you give us time?”

Emma blew out a harsh breath and looked down the street. The clouds grew thicker over the sun and she hugged her arms about herself. She looked at him, her blue eyes suddenly steely.

“You’re not doing this as the Sheriff and the Mayor, are you?”

Graham watched her for a long moment and slowly shook his head.

Emma looked down at the carved stone that had absorbed Regina’s blood and pressed her lips together. She heaved out a sigh and mulled it over. It wasn’t like she was anyone to be harping on about the sanctity of the law now was it? Emma knew that sometimes…sometimes you just had to do what was right for you.

“As soon as I can help, you’ll bring me in on it?”

“Regina won’t like it.”

“Regina doesn’t like anything.”

Graham smirked and nodded.

“As soon as you can help, I’ll tell you everything. I can’t promise you’ll believe me though.”

Emma frowned at that. She studied him for a long moment and stepped back suddenly.

“Alright, that keeps people that aren’t family out, right?” Emma smirked. “Can you come in?”

Graham glanced down at the line of salt and snorted. He didn’t let on that he’d been thinking exactly the same thing himself. Emma might believe it was superstitious nonsense, but Graham knew that Regina’s magic –while incredibly limited- was still potent when she needed it to be.

She might not be able to fence with lightning as she once had, but she could sure as shit put up a protection barrier that could fell a bull elephant at five hundred paces.

“Of course I can.” Graham took one large step over the line of salt and the keystone of the path both and felt the rush of magic over his skin and clothes. It ruffled his hair and shirt collar but otherwise didn’t hinder him in the slightest.

He arched a brow at Emma with a smirk and then waved for her to precede him up the garden path and into the house. It was only once she turned away from him that Graham twisted this way and that, scanning for any sign that the Woodcutter knew where Regina lived.

Terror clawed at him once more but he battered it down. He could freak out later, right now, he needed to get in there and see for himself that she was alright. Regina did not often feel fear and –when she did- bad things happened. She did not like being at the mercy of anything, least of all her own emotions.

The Woodcutter had best watch out.

“In the living room!”

Emma changed direction to enter the lounge instead of the kitchen and found Henry sitting on his own on the couch, looking worried.

“Where’s your mum?” Graham strode fully into the living room and stood over him.

“Upstairs, getting changed. She got blood on her dress.” Henry’s voice was small and frightened and Graham reacted as he would to a son of his own. As he had promised.

“Hey,” Graham sank down onto his heels and looked up at Henry, “I’m right here. So long as that’s the case, no-one’s going to hurt either of you.”

“You promise?” Henry looked at him very seriously and Graham nodded.

“I promised your mother and I promise you. Anyone comes after either of you and they have to go through me.”

Henry sucked in a deep breath and nodded, he managed something of a watery smile.

“Haurool.”

Graham stiffened at that word, at that name. He twisted and stood at the same time, turning to see Regina walking carefully into the living room. She looked tired, dark circles forming under her eyes, but otherwise unharmed.

She also looked pretty pissed under the calm façade she was putting up.

Regina walked into the lounge dressed for business. She wore dark leggings, a chunky cable-knit sweater that looked suspiciously like it had come from his closet. The rolled neck of it was far too big for her and it was so long on her that it hung to mid-thigh, she had rolled the cuffs of the sleeves back several times. Her knee high leather boots with sharp toes and sharper heels were definitely hers. The boots were plated with shining brass over the toe and the heel was even made of a spike of the metal. He imagined if she kicked someone with them it would hurt. A lot. He made a mental note to keep his shins out of reach.

“What have you been up to?” Regina spoke again but it was still in that alien language. She spoke in Wulven.

He tilted his head in silent question and she glanced at Emma and Henry, shrugging one shoulder.

“They won’t leave us alone for a private conversation and I need to speak with you now.” She eyed his trousers again. “Mud on your legs but not your paws?”

“I was in the wood above the town. I needed to check something.” Graham answered in Wulven too. His accent was a little rusty but he found his tongue and teeth falling into the cadences and rhythms of the old language easily. “It was faster to run as my old self.”

“What language are you speaking?” Emma demanded. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard. Like a dog choking on German.”

 

"It's wolf." Henry realised. "Something that both the Queen and the Huntsman would speak but no one else would. They don't want us to know what they're talking about."

“They can also hear you." Regina spoke to Henry in English and then to Emma. It’s something like Romani.”

Regina then switched back to Wulven to speak to Graham.

“We need to go to my den of the head.” There was no word for ‘vault’ in Wulven. “To see my changed tree carcasses. They know what I do not.” No word for ‘book’ either.

“You want to go now?”

“Better in the day, no?” Regina raised her eyebrows at him and Graham huffed out a breath.

“I do not know if he is stronger in the day or the night.”

“But we can both see better in the day. I did catch glimmers. In reflections. Perhaps because…I do not have the word for it. The still, hard pond upon the cave wall.”

Graham nodded when he understood she meant her mirrors.

“That would make sense, your magic was ever tied to them.”

“If I can find a piece of one that survived the journey from there to here then it might be helpful.” Regina tilted her head towards the door and Graham nodded. If they were going, they had best go now.

“Where are you going?!” Henry bounded up off the couch and gripped Regina’s arm. “Stop speaking wolf! Speak so I can understand. Where are you going?”

“We’re going to try and find out who was following us this afternoon. You’re going to stay here with Miss Swan.”

“He is?” Emma folded her arms over her chest and Regina lanced her with a look.

“You came all the way from Boston to spend time with my son and now you’re too busy?”

Emma’s jaw clenched and she nodded.

“I’ll have to make a couple of calls. I didn’t think you’d ever willingly let him spend time with me.”

“This afternoon has been filled with surprises for all of us.” Regina smiled tightly and waved to the hallway. “The telephone is out there, feel free to make use of it. The fridge is filled with food, eat as much as you like. Henry wanted a sundae, there’s ice cream and marshmallows in the Tupperware box marked ‘broccoli’. Do NOT order anything in, or invite anyone into the house or leave the house. Do you understand?”

Emma looked at her for a long moment and Regina spoke in a low tone.

“It’s this or he comes with me.”

“I want to go with you!” Henry put in his two cents and was summarily ignored.

“Alright, orders received and understood. Barring life or death, we won’t leave the house.”

Regina relaxed a little and nodded.

“Mom,” Henry threw his arms around her waist and looked up at her, “I’m scared.”

“I know, honey.” Regina wrapped her arms about him and hugged him so tightly her stitches creaked. “I know, but you get to stay with Emma. Isn’t that what you wanted? She’s going to tell you stories about being in prison, won’t that be exciting?”

“I didn’t want it like this.” His voice was muffled against her chest and he summarily ignored her cheerful jab at Emma. “I want you both.”

“Yes, well…not today.” Regina kissed his hair. “I have to go, but Graham is with me.”

“Does he remember?” Henry looked up at her, his voice so low that only she could hear it. “Does he remember he’s the Huntsman? You can’t trust him if he does.”

Regina looked down at him and knew this wasn’t the time for this but…but she had promised him. She had promised him that they would talk about the curse and she had promised herself that she would tell him the truth. She heaved out a breath that made her various wounds twinge and sank down onto her heels, holding his arms and looking up at him.

“Graham swore on everything he holds dear to protect both of us. We can trust him. We won’t let anything happen to you. Anyone wanting to hurt you will have to go through both of us.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Henry looked down at her with big sad eyes and she smiled at him.

“Never happen.” Her hands slid down his arms to squeeze his fingers. “I told you, it would take armies to steal me from you and nobody here has armies. We’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“Like you promised the night the guy stabbed you?” Regina’s jaw clenched at that and she heaved out a breath.

“The difference between then and now is that I’m no longer pretending to be helpless. We’ll be back before sundown.”

Henry looked mulish for long moments, evidently wondering if he could physically restrain her from leaving and heaving a sigh when he realised he couldn’t.

“I’ll be waiting. Not a minute more or I’m coming to find you.”

“Yes you will, brave little prince.” Regina rose to her feet and kissed his forehead.

She straightened with barely a wince and looked over to see Emma tucking something into the back of her jeans. A quick glance confirmed that the gun holster on Graham’s hip was now empty. She looked back to Emma.

“Anyone who’s not us…”

“Taken care of.” Emma nodded and Regina returned it a little shakily with one of her own.

She turned to Graham and held out her hand. He seemed mildly surprised but moved before she could change her mind, engulfing her hand in his own.

“See you at sundown.” Graham nodded to them both and ruffled his hand through Henry’s hair.

He at least sounded less like he was trying to convince any of them. Regina gave one last smile to Henry and then let Graham tow her out of the front door.

It was a testament to how scared she was that Graham not only draw her under his arm and close to his side to keep her from shaking, but that she allowed it.

Gods, she hoped the vault had what she needed.

She didn’t know what to do if it didn’t.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – Digging Deep**

 

**_The Enchanted Forest, Then…_ **

 

“Faster, Frost, faster.”

Regina leaned down over her pony’s neck and pretended she couldn’t hear her mother calling her.

There would be hell to pay for it later, for disobeying, for flipping her leg over her pony’s neck so she could ride astride rather than side-saddle, for galloping for –the ribbon from her hair disappeared off into the ferns and she laughed- for being unladylike. Regina didn’t care.

With the road beneath her and the trees blurring past, she didn’t care. It was her birthday, she knew better than to think this would grant her a reprieve from her mother, but she also knew that she needed to do it, just for her. Her birthday gift to herself.

Frostfire, her little dapple grey, ticked his ears back towards her and gave a joyful little whinny. He kicked his heels up and tore into the road even faster. He hated the dressage routines almost as much as Regina did and he was glad to be running full pelt, feeling the wind in his mane again.

Regina leaned over his neck, gripping his mane and letting him have his head, and laughed. Her hair and skirts streamed out behind her in a banner, his hooves pounded the road like a drumroll and her laughter made the little gelding perk his ears and run faster still. Trying hard to impress her.

He was, strictly speaking, too small for her. She had grown a great deal since she had gotten him two years ago. Now that she was a lady of fifteen –on her way to her uncle’s in the capitol for her season of being shown off to the suitors of the kingdom- she should really have a horse of as impeccable breeding as she was, but she couldn’t bear to be parted from her little Frostfire.

Not when he needed to gallop as much as she did.

They tore around the bend in the trail, dirt from the road flying up in great clods behind them, spattering her dress and riding coat (another thing she would pay dearly for but, since she was being punished anyway…).

She didn’t even see him before he flew screaming out from behind some bracken.

Frost whinnied and jinked violently to the side. His change in course so sudden that even an experienced rider like Regina could not have hoped to have stayed astride him. She went one way, Frost went another and Regina landed hard on her side on the road, the air coughed from her lungs with the brutal impact.

She lay there, coughing hard, and blearily took in the scene.

A boy, she thought it was a boy, about her age, was trying to steal her horse.

No.

Regina, still coughing, hauled herself to her feet. Her skirts were now completely ruined, her hair in disarray, she had to look an absolute fright, but she didn’t care. No one was taking Frost from her.

She stepped forward, lifted the leather wrapped cane that was her riding crop, and swung it with all the strength she possessed at the back of the snarling boy’s head.

She jolted when he twisted like a cat and enclosed the whip in his teeth with such a strength as to stop her swing cold.

He snarled, he snarled low and violent like a wolf rather than any sound a man could make, and his teeth tightened around the whip. Those sharp white teeth –different from the teeth or a normal boy- bit down into the leather and the hickory cane beneath until the wood began to creak.

Regina’s eyes went wide when his met hers.

Green.

She’d never seen eyes that colour of green, like frosted leaves in winter, streaked with lightning silver. The pupils were contracted into black pinpoints so all she could see was the colour and her shocked reflection looking back at her.

Her lips parted in surprise and then he suddenly twisted again, clawing and swinging at Frost even as her brave little pony lunged and reared. He stomped with his hooves and bit with his teeth, trying to protect her. The boy snarled and lunged, clawlike nails –dark and sharp on his fingers- zinged through the air with tearing swipes at Frost’s neck and face, trying to get past flashing hooves to rip his throat out.

“No!” Regina realised then that the boy didn’t want to steal Frost, he wanted to eat him.

She didn’t realise what she was doing until the rock was heavy in her hand and then suddenly flying through the air. The boy grunted, bowled over by the rock hitting him in the back of the neck and Regina wasted no time.

“Run, Frost!” She threw her arms up towards her pony and he shied back from her. “Run! Go now!”

The pony whinnied, not sure what she wanted, not wanting to abandon her, and Regina slapped the crop down over his rump. She had never used it on him before and he knew then that she was serious.

With a scream of terror, the pony bolted away, back down the road the way they had come. Leaving Regina alone with the feral boy.

Regina turned back, her chest heaving painfully in the hateful corseted dress that her mother had made her wear, and stared down at him. Her crop held like a sword, ready to fend him off if she had to.

Her mother had warned her of bandits, her father too for that matter, but she had never thought she would meet one and she had certainly never thought that they would look like this.

The boy, and he was just a boy no older than her, lay on the ground and clutched the back of his neck. He groaned and rolled over, growling and rumbling to himself in a language that she didn’t recognise. It sounded something like a snarling wolf but there were human sounds mixed in there too.

His teeth were too sharp, his eyes too bright, his hair was wild, hanging down past his shoulders and matted into twisted ropes. He got his arms and legs under him and weaved to his feet. Regina noticed only then that he was taller than her. Quite a bit taller. His skin was tanned, like the skin of peasants that worked under the hot summer sun, hair dusted his chest, arms and legs and…oh.

He was completely naked.

Regina felt heat crawl up her neck and into her face when she realised that she was alone and without chaperone in the presence a very manly boy.

Mother would have conniptions.

Still, he wasn’t…ugly. Regina studied him. He was slim but not the skin and bone she would expect of some wild child that had been raised in the wild, surviving off carrion and any small beast that he could catch. She had heard tales of such creatures, raised wild in the forest by the animals. They were always found frozen and starved in the winter. Lost children that hadn’t been strong enough to survive the first few winters in the forest.

Not this boy.

He was almost a man, his shoulders broad and his hips narrow. Every inch of him seemed to be one lean muscle piled against another in long serrated lines. He moved with a fluid grace that was inhuman, those muscles shifting like molten metal under his skin.

Regina swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

He turned to look at her, rubbing at the back of his neck still and scowling at her. His eyes suddenly flew wide. He staggered back, hands raised, and said something in that language that she didn’t recognise.

“Wait!” Regina stepped towards him, suddenly not wanting him to leave. She tossed aside the riding crop when he stared at it and held up her hands. “I mean you no harm, I’m sorry for hitting you, but I couldn’t let you eat my pony.”

He prowled back and away from her, his luminous silver green eyes wary, but he didn’t run.

“My name is Regina.” She laid a hand over her chest. “Regina.”

The boy just looked at her like she was mad.

She snuck another step closer and put both hands to her chest.

“Regina.”

The boy tilted his head, obviously not understanding her in the slightest and she sighed.

He was covered in cuts and bruises, trembling with fear or hunger and she had nothing to give him.

“Will you come with me to see my father?” Regina held out her hand to him. “We can give you food, tend to your wounds.”

The boy looked down at her hand for long still moments and stiffened when she stepped closer but he still didn’t run.

“Please?” She held her hand out to him still and he stepped forward suddenly.

Right into her hand and closer to her than any other man had ever been. Regina spun her hand against his body, her palm resting flush against his chest, feeling the boom of his heart beneath his skin, and sucked in a breath when his face suddenly buried into her neck. Her breath caught when he inhaled deeply, his nose snuffling against her skin and –with a shock of sensation- his tongue swept up the side of her neck, over the thundering pulse there from the hollow of her throat to the lobe of her ear. He nipped her softly there with his teeth.

Regina stood as still and taut as if she had just been struck by lightning, her eyes so wide she thought one of them might just fall out. Her entire body felt like it was blushing. No other man would dare…

“Haurool.”

Regina blinked and looked up into his eyes. His hand, with those clawed fingernails of his, closed over hers on his chest and he didn’t look away from her.

“Haurool.”

“Haurool?”

He grunted and then lifted his other hand, pressing it to her chest, his fingers completely spanning her breast they were so large. She stiffened again but he didn’t appear to realise what he was doing was inappropriate.

“Rrrrrrzhina.”

“Regina.”

“Rrzhina.” He repeated and she supposed that was as close as she was getting.

“Haurool.” She repeated what she took to be his name and his eyes met hers again.

He really had no concept of personal space, he loomed over her, a full head taller than she was, and his long and filthy hair fell down over her, brushing her cheek with one of the ropey tendrils. He smelled of the forest but only more so. The scent of pine around him much sharper than in the woods around them. Heat beat from him in waves, his heart thudded as strong as a horse’s under her palm and those eyes of his. Green eyes as deep and endless as the Enchanted Forest that spanned the entire continent.

Eyes she might drown in if she wasn’t careful.

“Regina!”

Regina twisted at the call of her name, looking back down the road, surprised to see her father tear around the corner at full gallop astride his great destrier Widower. The huge black stallion’s flanks steaming in the cool air of the morning.

“Thank heavens you’re alright!” Her father reined Widower to a slithering halt and threw himself down from the beast’s back, engulfing her in a crushing hug. “I was so worried when Frost came back without you.”

“I’m fine.” Regina smiled up at her father, aware of the clattering of her mother’s approaching carriage. “He just got spooked when…” Regina trailed off when she turned to introduce her father to Haurool and found the wild boy had disappeared.

He was nowhere to be seen, not a trace of him in the surrounding trees. Only that sharp scent of alien pine let her know that he had been there at all.

“When what, child?”

“When…when a doe bolted out of the woods. She must have been spooked at our approach. She frightened Frost and was too surprised to stay astride when he bolted.”

“Still, no broken bones or bruises, eh?” Her father grinned down at her and rubbed at her shoulders. A grin that faltered when the carriage rolled to a halt beside them.

Regina felt cold seep into her gut when the carriage door opened and her mother deigned to step down into the road. Was she to be punished there? In the middle of the road? Where the servants might see?

It would be uncharacteristic, but Regina had long since learned not to think anything was beneath her mother’s depravity.

“Regina, your dress.” Cora stepped down from the carriage, her hands fisted in her skirts to keep them from trailing in the mud. “It’s ruined.”

“I’m sorry, mother.” Regina genuinely was. Her little adventure had gotten dangerously out of control and all her father did was squeeze her shoulder in a move meant to reassure her. “I didn’t mean to fall.”

“But you did mean to gallop astride your little beast even when I told you not to.”

“I…” Regina desperately sought for an excuse. “He’s a lively animal, I thought letting him run for a little bit would calm him for the rest of the journey.”

“You couldn’t control him? A beast of burden? I raised you better than that.”

“I didn’t want him to be unhappy.” Regina held her chin high, quailing away from her mother would grant her nothing, least of all leniency. “He’s my friend.”

“Regina, those of the ruling class do not have friends. We have allies or we have people that are beholden to us, but never friends.” Cora told her coldly.

“But I am not the ruling class.” Regina wasn’t.

Her father was and –had she been a son- she would have inherited his titles from him when she came of age, but she would never hold lands nor make policy for the people that lived on them. The best she could hope for was to marry a man that would let her ride her horses whenever she wished.

Cora turned back to her daughter, her eyes flashing, and Regina realised her mistake as soon as the magic sparked deep in her mother’s eyes. She braced herself for the pain but what Cora did next was far worse.

She turned her gaze on Frost, who stood impatiently in the hands of one of the grooms, wanting to get back to Regina but knowing he’d have to wait until the hateful woman was back in the carriage.

“Mother, no!” Regina hurled herself forward, trying to put herself between her mother and her pony, but her father’s hands clapped down on her arms and held her back.

Regina screamed when magic suddenly engulfed her pony’s head and wrenched it fully around to face the wrong way. Frost’s panicked scream was cut off before he could fully voice it and he crumpled stone dead at the side of the road.

When the cloud of magic cleared, Regina could see –through her tears- that his eyes had rolled back in his head in panic and they now appeared to be staring directly into hers. Regina hung in her father’s grasp, her mouth open in a wordless scream, staring down at the corpse of her only friend. Tears rained freely from her eyes and pattered onto the road and her ruined dress. Staining the silk further.

“Cora…” Regina’s father started, his tone partially pleading and partially in rebuke and he cut himself off with a single cutting look from his wife.

“You are too soft on her, Henry. Better she learns now than being betrayed at the hands of someone she mistakenly called friend.” Cora’s words were chips of ice into Regina’s heart, even though she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Frost’s cooling body at the roadside.

Her mother, without a second glance, let herself be helped up into the carriage by one of the footmen.

“Come along, Regina. If you cannot ride, you must be driven with me.”

Regina couldn’t look away from Frost’s staring eyes. He seemed to be pleading with her. Why had she betrayed him? Why had she let her mother kill him?

Regina sobbed a broken sound.

“She shall ride with me.”

Regina choked off another sob before it could form when her father tugged her towards Widower’s side.

“Henry, it is hardly fitting…” Cora began stridently but Henry –for once- would not hear of it.

“It is hardly fitting for the Lady of the Southern Mills to arrive in a carriage covered in the filth of her daughter’s dress. She shall ride ahead with me and we shall both be cleaned and readied in time to greet your arrival.” Henry pushed Regina up to sit sideways in the saddle and vaulted up behind her.

He clasped an arm about her waist and held her upright against his chest. It would be a torturous ride for her, sitting on the pommel of the saddle, not in control of the steed she rode on, but better the physical pain than the mental trauma of being left in Cora’s merciless clutches for the rest of the journey.

Without another word or a chance for Cora to complain again, he sank his heels into Widower and sent the beast into a swift canter ahead of Cora’s carriage. Only a single guard accompanied them. He –and the rest of the liveried staff- had remained silent throughout the entire ordeal. They knew better than to interfere.

That was what Eponine had done and nobody wanted to share Eponine’s fate.

Nobody.

Regina, for her part, turned her face into her father’s shoulder, gripped his jacket until her knuckles cracked, and wept. She sobbed and cried and screamed because she knew this would be the only chance she would ever have to grieve for her friend.

Her father sat deep in the saddle, his face stoic in response to his daughter’s anguish, and pushed them harder towards his uncle’s city.

He wished for an uncounted time that his uncle the King had not encouraged him to marry the witch that could weave gold. For all she seemed to spin now was pain.

Once the entire procession of horses, carriages, aristocracy and staff had moved on, once the forest sounds returned and the road was empty save for the sad body of a pony killed before his time, Howl crept out onto the road once more.

He watched the retreating bulk of the carriage disappear over the rise of the road and could not truly say that he understood what had gone on.

The female, Rrzhina, had seemed friendly enough but her mother had been…cold. He did not like the mother.

Howl moved to the corpse of the pony and frowned when he saw how it had been killed. One of them had held it and then the mother had…he did not even know what she had done but he knew it was wrong. Was this what he was to be?

To kill as a man, to use tools and treachery rather than tooth and claw. To slaughter without need –for they could not have killed it for hunger, they had left it at the side of the trail.

Howl picked up the head of the pony and turned it so that it faced the right way. He felt his eyes burn at the injustice for the beast’s death.

Yes, it was prey, he’d have killed it himself had he got the pounce right, but this was wrong what had been done to it.

If the wolf pelt was right, if he now had to act as a man, to hunt as a man, to kill as a man, this would be how he had to do it. He’d do it from afar, without ever touching the prey, and he would murder them without having to work for it.

To hunt was to do battle, against the prey’s legs, their strength, their stamina, their cunning. A wolf had to win, had to be a warrior of the hunt without peer. A wolf had to be the best and all a man had to do was…this.

Kill it and leave it by the side of the trail. For it to be picked upon by the carrion eaters and the lesser creatures. To be broken back down into the earth without ever living on in the heart or mind of another creature, a hunter like a wolf.

Howl reached out and closed the pony’s eyes. He could not bear those soft brown eyes –going glassy and clouded in death- to look upon him any longer.

They seemed to look into him and know what he had to become. To know that this was what he must be now. A murderer. Howl sniffed and felt the wet from his eyes trail down his face again.

He did not want to be a man. He did not want it with every fibre of his being but he knew –in his blood and his bones he knew- that the Woodcutter was on his way and no one else knew.

There were no other wolves that were not wolves. There was no other to fight back against the Woodcutter.

So he would have to be that hating thing that was man.

He would have to be the skin stealer, the murderer, the carrion eater, the waster, the thief. He would have to give up being a wolf and he would have to wait.

He would wear the skin of man, he would walk their footsteps and he would howl their words but he would never – _never_ \- be one, he promised himself.

He would hide, a wolf that looked like a man, he would hide in plain sight and –when the Woodcutter came for him- he would weigh every single moment of torment he was to suffer on the monster’s head. The Woodcutter would rue the day that he had intruded upon Howl’s life.

Howl sniffed in a breath and scrubbed at his face with his paws, swiping the rain away.

He looked down at the pony and decided then that he would give the beast’s death some meaning. Night and himself would benefit from its death, even if no one else would.

They would eat of its flesh and take of its strength and it would live on –in a small piece- through them. They would not let it have died for nothing.

So, gripping one of the legs with his paw, he set his teeth to the joint and began to tear. One of his last acts as a wolf.

Soon he would find someone to teach him how to be a man. Soon he would learn about knives and bows and arrows and axes. Soon he would learn about wearing clothes and hunting for prey that he did not need to trade for this thing they called gold that seemed to rule men’s lives. Soon he would wear their clothes, speak their language, act in their ways, but he would NEVER be one.

Never.

Inside, he would always be a wolf. Inside, he would feel what he was doing was wrong right down to his very core. Inside, he would scream for the injustices he was forced to commit in the name of being a wolf that was not a wolf.

On the outside, he would weep for every animal that he killed this way.

For it was not wolf and so neither was he.

 

_**Storybrooke, Now…** _

 

“I didn’t know you knew that name.” Regina blinked, torn from her memories of the past, and turned to look at Graham.

She looked at him, her mind blank for a long moment and then she nodded.

“You knew that I’m omni-lingual. I speak wolf as easily as I speak horse or cat or duck or rabbit…that is how it’s pronounced, isn’t it?”

“Haurrrrool.” Graham rolled the R’s around his mouth. His vocal cords were more suited to the guttural language of wolves than her softer voice but she managed it incredibly well. What an impressive talent to have.

“So,” Graham’s hands flexed against the wheel when something occurred to him, “when I said…in bed…”

“I understood every word.”

“Oh.” Graham flexed his hands on the wheel again and pressed his lips together.

She had liked it, he remembered. Loved it when he had pinned her down and bitten at her neck and snarled in wulven at her. He’d cursed her up and down whilst fucking her as hard as he could. He had bruised her with his bites and told her over and over how he loved to hate her. How he would kill her if given the chance.

He had let his mouth run because she had told him she liked the sound of his voice shaping the language and his life was easier if she was pleased with him. He had not –for one moment- thought that she could speak Wulven. Not like the wolves of the Blackwood did.

“Well, no, that is not true.” Regina hugged her arms about herself and stared out the truck window at the passing scenery. Forever wary of more signs of the Woodcutter. “There was one word that I could never decipher. You started to call me by it just before the curse.”

Graham remained silent. He knew well the word she referred to, but he feigned ignorance anyway.

“Luvzhang.”

Graham’s jaw clenched and he kept his eyes on the road for a long moment. His mouth twisted, pondering as to whether or not to tell her.

“Graham, what does it mean?”

“It doesn’t have a direct translation. The closest thing would probably be…” Graham heaved out a sigh and flicked his indicators, turning off the main road and heading for the cemetery. “Love-bite.”

“Love…?” Regina thumped back in her seat, caught by surprise and frowned out the windshield. “Well, I have to say that’s a nicer name than I expected from you.”

Graham shrugged a shoulder and pulled the truck to a halt outside the gates of the graveyard. He peered out of the windows on all sides and it was a testament to how serious Regina was now taking the whole Woodcutter situation that she waited for his nod.

He could feel she was afraid. Angry too, but it was the fear that kept her smart so he didn’t want to do anything to alleviate it just yet.

“Alright.” Graham hopped down out of the truck and rounded it before she could drop down herself. He took her by the waist, her hands resting on his shoulders, and brought her down to the ground. Shielded between his body and the door. He gave the parking lot another scan, wary of the shadows of the trees and spoke to her again. “You said you couldn’t see him in the light?”

“Just his footprints, his reflection.” Regina nodded, hugging herself. “I could…feel him. His shadow had weight.”

“What can you feel now?”

Regina’s eyes took on a sightless quality for a moment, focussing on her other senses, stretching them as far as she could. She shook her head.

“Nothing. If he’s here, I can’t feel it.”

“Alright.” Graham tugged her out of the shadow of the truck door and clapped it closed. He tucked her under his arm again, his neck on a swivel, and hurried her towards the tomb that immortalised her father’s remains. He herded her up the steps and stood impatiently whilst she fumbled the key into the lock.

He’d had it repaired, all of it, whilst she had been in hospital. Marco had outdone himself with the door.

Graham noticed her noticing, running her fingertips briefly over the newly carved wood. A deep cherry wood inlaid with ebony. The Storybrooke apple tree flaring over both doors, brass detailing picking out the individual fruits.

It had cost Graham dearly, but some things were sacred, even between Regina and himself.

He might have had no patience for Henry senior, but Regina had loved him. Graham supposed he should respect the old coward’s memory or something.

Graham slipped inside after Regina once she opened the door and stalled in the doorway, blinking several times, forcing his eyes to adjust. He closed the door behind himself and felt her breath catch when she found herself in a dark impenetrable to her inferior night vision.

Graham’s eyes might be piss poor in the dark compared to a wolf’s but crappy wolf night vision is still a hell of a lot better than even the best human night vision. Growing up in the Blackwood as a wolf had more than its fair share of advantages and Graham was glad of every one of them now. He would need them all.

“Graham?”

“Right here, pet.” Graham looked down into her face, turning towards the sound of his voice, her eyes wide and black.

Her hand swung out and clapped against his chest and –for the first time- he didn’t flinch at the contact. A harsh breath rushed out of her and her fingers curled in the material of his shirt.

“Did you have to shut the door? I can’t see anything.”

“I can see enough for both of us. Where’s the door?”

“Under the coffin.” Despite not being able to see, she took three steps unerringly close to the marble casket and rested her hands on the side of it. “Help me.”

Graham was behind her in an instant, his arms bracketing hers and braced against the coffin before she could exert the slightest pressure on it. The last thing he needed was her laid low by popping a stitch. He’d much rather she stayed on the track to recovery. He needed an ally now just as much as she needed him.

The coffin slid aside with a grating sound of stone over stone, though it moved surprisingly easily and Graham winced when a soft blue light shone up from the staircase revealed beneath.

“Interesting.” Was the only comment he was prepared to make.

“Wait until you see the rest of it.” Regina muttered and he darted in front of her when she prepared to descend.

He hopped over the ledge of the passageway, dropping down several steps below her and looking up at her with an exasperated expression.

“And what if he were to come in the door behind us?” Regina planted her hands on her hips and his scowl just became more mulish.

“He’d never fit through the door.”

“The tunnels would be more spacious, you think?”

“Just…” He cut himself off on a low growl. “Just let me, eh?”

Regina’s jaw rocked to the side and she nodded. Fine, he could do his alpha male thing and lead the way. It wouldn’t last long anyway. He had no idea where he was going.

Graham grunted in response to her acquiescence, and spun on his heel. He waited until her hand rested between his shoulder blades in an old habit of theirs, and prowled down the stairs into the silence of the catacombs beneath. Like that, as they had done many a time in the Enchanted Forest, he would always be able to tell where she was without having to turn and look.

“Where first?” His voice was low and his senses stretched taut.

He didn’t think the Woodcutter would come down into the tunnels –too many bad memories of being trapped underground hopefully- but he didn’t know this place. Who knew what else was just waiting to come creeping out of the crawlspaces of the curse now that the cracks were beginning to show.

He heard Regina moving behind him, reaching into his jacket that he had given her to wear again, and started a little when something cool and familiar pressed into his palm. He accepted the knife, squeezing her fingers in silent thanks and flipping the blade in his hand, ready to swing and claw with the least provocation.

“The library first. Down this corridor for thirty yards, then the first left, continue on for another twenty yards and then it’s on the right.”

Graham stilled, blinking.

“How big is this place?”

“Big enough.”

“Pet, now would not be the time for oblique answers.” Graham half turned his head to give her his profile and she huffed out a breath through her nose.

She’d been so caught up in the whole Woodcutter nonsense that she’d clean forgotten to get her back up about the whole ‘pet’ nonsense. He’d been calling her it all day and –well- it seemed a little pointless now to go back and retroactively have a hissy fit over it. She gave a low growl and left it at that.

“The tunnels span the town. At least. Near thirty years and I still haven’t managed to map them completely. Suffice to say that most of my castle is duplicated here and a few other places besides.”

“Most of…” Graham blinked and then shook his head sharply. “Of course it is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Regina fell into step with him again when he continued his prowl. Faster now that he knew where he was going.

“You said yourself, the curse imprinted on your mind. The town up above is the face you present to the world. You’ve ever been more complex than the myriad of masks you have at your disposal. It really shouldn’t surprise me that there is so much more to Storybrooke than I originally thought.”

“Oh.” Regina sounded like she quite badly wanted to take offence to some of that but wasn’t quite sure how. She tensed when Graham did.

He froze, turning his face to one of the dark tunnels branching away from them. He sniffed, head tilting back to drink in the scent.

“What is it?”

“Blood.” He inhaled again. “Your blood.”

“Oh. That. Ignore it. We have more important things to worry about- -Graham!”

He was already prowling down the corridor after the blood trail. She cursed, knowing what he was going to find and grinding her teeth at the prospect. She caught up with him just as he pushed open the mirror at the end of the corridor and walked into the destruction that she had wrought on the replica of her bedroom from her castle.

Regina stalled in the doorway and let out a slow breath, watching his back as he turned slowly, taking everything in. It looked much worse in the lucid light of calm, Regina thought.

Everything was broken. Methodically shattered, smashed and slashed. From the bed linens to the wallpaper from the mirrors to the furniture. Nothing had been saved from her rage. Her blood, dried brown, was splattered everywhere.

Regina’s jaw clenched and she met Graham’s gaze with a defensive one of her own when he turned to look at her.

“Over me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Regina wound her arms across her chest and hugged herself. “Miss Swan had done more than a little to tip me over that night too.”

Graham didn’t say anything. What could he say? He looked down at the destruction again and huffed out a slow breath.

“You…you’ve never let me see it before.”

Regina’s gaze darted to his and she found him watching her intently.

“In the Enchanted Forest, I heard you rage. Felt the floors shake and the walls tremble, but you never let even me see. Repaired it all with magic before anyone could bear witness. I never saw so much as a chipped teacup.”

“Teacups aren’t really my thing.” Regina shrugged a shoulder and froze, her face turned away from him, when he prowled closer.

Debris crunched and crumpled beneath his boots. His fingers tipped her chin up and turned her face to his. He stepped closer and closer until he was practically flush against her and she gulped when his gaze dropped to her mouth. His thumb rubbed back and forth across her chin, his eyes considering her for long moments.

“What?” Her voice was a dry croak.

“You did it anyway.”

“What?” She frowned up at him.

“I know you, I know how your rage works. Even at your maddest, there’s a quiet part of you. Calculating, wondering how best to use all that strength that boils under your skin. As apoplectic as you’d have been, there would have been a part of you that knew exactly what you were about when you came in here that night. You knew what you’d do when you got here and you came in and you destroyed everything you held dear from our home because you thought you’d lost me.”

Regina yanked her chin from his hold and stared at her shattered reflection in the spider web of cracked shards left in one of the mirror frames. Her eyes looked too bright and she blinked hurriedly.

“Well,” she cleared her throat harshly when she heard the quiver in her voice, “it could be argued that I never truly had you.”

“Pet, you are the only woman that could have me.” Graham’s hand slid around her throat and spanned it completely, turning her to look at him again. “I’d have eaten anyone lesser.”

A shiver raced through her and they both knew it had nothing to do with fear or the cold.

“What are we doing?” The question was out of her before she could bite it back.

“Standing together.”

“You know what I meant.” She clenched her jaw but didn’t tug herself from his grasp again.

“Aye, and I was answering you.” Graham’s thumb stroked the corner of her jaw until it began to unclench. “We’re in the place the eye doesn’t see, pet. I don’t know what else to tell you other than –if we fall- we fall together.”

“You hate me.” She hugged herself even tighter and he let her look away from him. His hand slipped down her neck to skate over her shoulder, past her elbow to lace his fingers through hers.

“Wrong.” Graham stepped even closer to her and her breath caught. “There are no words for what I feel for you. I’d show you if I could. I think you’re the only person who could withstand feeling it, who feels with the same depth I do, but all I have are words.”

“Really? Just words?” Her voice was low and soft and he let himself take in the scene.

He could feel everything she felt. Feel it pouring along the connection between them. She stood there, vulnerable and broken. Held together with stitches and will. Her safe haven, brought with her between worlds, shattered around her by her own hand. She’d broken everything. Her former life a wreckage around her alongside her decision to give him his heart back. She was scared, she was battered and she was alone.

No. Not alone.

“I won’t force you.”

“I have never said no to you.”

Graham stilled when he realised that was true. Of course, she’d told him ‘no’ several times. It wasn’t like the word had never passed her lips within his presence, but she had never denied _him_.

When he’d been at his darkest, his wildest, when he’d needed to tear into something, he’d torn into her. When he’d needed to be tied down before he laid waste to entire villages or even himself, she’d bound him. When he’d needed someone to blame for being the mess of a creature he was, when he had rebelled at the thought of being so dark, so twisted, just by his own nature, she’d let him hide behind hers.

His fingers threaded through her hair and he hauled her mouth up under his in a single motion.

Her hands fisted in his shirt and he froze when she pulled against his hold in her hair just before his lips closed over hers. Her whisper was harsh in the gloom of the ruined room.

“Is this a trick?”

“If it is, I’m playing it on me too.”

That seemed to erode the last of her resolve and she gave way to the pressure of his hand in her hair. Her lips crushed up against his and she melted against him with a soft and needy moan from deep in her throat.

It felt like forever since they had touched. They had lain together just last night but that had been tense as soon as they had wakened. As soon as they had realised who they were abed with.

That was before though, before they had the excuse of a common enemy to draw together against. Before his worst fears had been realised and she’d been backed into a corner. Before they’d realised how deep their feelings truly ran.

He deepened the kiss, crushing her mouth against his, thrusting his tongue into her. Her fingers pulled at his shirt until the stitching creaked and his arms wound around her. The cold of the knife, in his hand still, rasped over the leather of his Sheriff’s jacket when he tugged her even closer still, stopping only when she winced and sank her teeth into his lip with her start of pain.

“Sorry.” Graham pulled away from her, breathing hard, easing his hold around her chest immediately.

Regina sucked in a deep breath, putting her hand to her wound and breathing as hard as she was able without pulling a stitch.

“I’m alright.” She lifted a hand and pushed her hair back out of where it had tumbled over her eyes. She looked mussed, her lipstick kissed away, heat scoring high over her cheeks and pain warring with desire in her eyes. “What are we doing?”

“Talking.”

She shot him a dark look and he smirked.

“Not all conversations are held with words, pet.” Graham stepped closer to her once more, absorbing the way her breath caught at the proximity. He spoke against her mouth, not quite kissing her. “What did I just tell you?”

Her eyes met his, searching, looking deep and he let her. She didn’t often truly look people in the eye, not unless she wanted to rattle them down to their bones, but she did with him. Always with him.

“You said…we stand together.”

“Aye.” He nipped her chin with his teeth and looped an arm around her waist, herding her to the door and back out into the corridor beyond. “I will not abandon you.”

She huffed something like a laugh and he rounded on her suddenly.

“You think I’m lying?”

“People leave me. It’s what they do.”

“You mean you drive lesser people away.” He told her sharply. “I am your equal. Remember it well.”

She arched an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips.

“If that’s the case, why am I walking behind you?”

“Because I’ve got the knife and you’re still wounded.”

“Not that badly.”

“Pet, had you not flinched back there, I’d have taken you on the ruin of your bed and made you beg for it.”

Regina blinked at that. She was still getting used to him being off his leash. Being able to talk with her as an equal. Say and do what he pleased. It was both puzzling and alarming to her that he would please himself to stand at her side and defend her against any threat. She still couldn’t figure out the why of it and it terrified her almost as much as the Woodcutter did.

“Be that as it may,” she cleared her throat, “none of that will help us against the Woodcutter. Are we going to the library or not?”

“Aye.” Graham took her hand in his. “Stay behind me.”

Regina wanted to roll her eyes but the expression seemed wasted when he wasn’t looking at her.

He kept his fingers laced with hers, keeping her behind him as he prowled into the library. He scanned the dim interior and snorted out a breath.

“I don’t imagine you did much reading in here over the years.” The room was dark, his voice echoing in the space that was larger than his eyes could see in the dim.

It felt large though. As cavernous as the library back in her castle had been. The library in the Dark Castle may have been extensive, but Regina had collected more than a few tomes from the sorcerers she had slain over the years. She’d never been the type not to keep trophies nor to let something useful go to waste.

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Regina murmured and tugged her hand from his, walking carefully into the dark that her eyes couldn’t penetrate at all.

She made it through dint of memory and wrapped her fingers around the edges of a mirror canted at an odd angle on a wrought iron stand. With a grating sound and a clunk, the entire stand rotated, the mirror angling upward. There was a deep and rumbling sound of old gears turning in the walls and under the stone floor. Mirrors dotted throughout the room, perched on the walls and ceilings, rotated too. Light spilled in from a tiny hole in the ceiling, it looked to be nothing more than a rabbit burrow aboveground, but the light was more than enough to bounce and refract across the mirrors in the huge room and light every corner of it. Graham blinked at the sudden change in light and his eyebrows rose.

Books. Books filled every available space. Piled on the floor, packed tightly in the shelves, every nook and cranny seemed to have a book of a suiting size to fill it.

“I don’t remember it being this messy.” Graham murmured.

“No, I had many books within the castle, not just in the main library. The Curse spliced all of them into the same place. Which is both fortunate and not.” Regina walked deeper into the room and looked up at the leaning shelves looming around her.

“In what way?” Graham followed after her and finally stowed his knife. He felt better now that he knew there was only one way in behind them.

“Well, if I ever had the book containing what we need, it will be here.”

“But…”

“Everything’s been rearranged. I have no idea where it will be.”

“There has to be thousands of books here.” Graham’s neck craned, taking in the space that seemed far too large to be contained belowground.

“Tens of thousands.” Regina corrected mildly and scanned the room.

She straightened suddenly and stalked across the library, winding her way between towers of books so tall that they obscured her entirely sometimes. Graham growled below his breath and hurried after her. He didn’t know what else was down there with him.

Regina had kept more than one monster in the bowels of her castle back in the Enchanted Forest. If she had brought Maleficent –somewhere- then it stood to reason that she may have brought other things.

Things like wyverns, owlbears, gnolls, trolls, phookas, sea serpents…her collection had been extensive. Most of them captured by himself in order to stop them from eating her subjects, but she had always been loathe to kill them.

Whether that was because she preferred animals to people or because she was simply hoarding the threat of unleashing them upon her subjects again should they misbehave, she had never seen fit to explain to him.

“What’s this?” Graham arrived behind her in time to see her opening a huge glass fronted cabinet.

“Trophies.” Regina murmured and studied the objects hanging within.

Wands, charms, medallions, staffs, swords, daggers even some shields hung there. Objects of power that she had taken from those who would stand against her. Sorcerers were not team players in general though Regina had always given them the choice when she had come across them. Swear fealty to her or die. The ten metre long cabinet filled to the brim with such grave markers was a testament as to how many had chosen fealty.

“You’ve never needed a wand before.” Graham murmured.

“I’ve never been so cut off from my magic before.” Regina stretched up on her toes and winced when her wound pulled. She still couldn’t lift her arms easily over her head.

“The bracelet?”

“Yes.”

Graham reached up over her head and removed the bracelet from where it had hung on its hook. She took it from him with a murmured thanks, studying it this way and that.

It was a bracelet heavy with charms. Each one was intricately crafted with stunning detail and every single one of them was a shield. Some of them bore family crests that he did not recognise, some of them seemed ancient and battle scarred, but the entire thing thrummed with a power even he could feel. She hummed in her throat and slipped it over her wrist. It was made for a much larger person than she, a wizard he believed, but it shrank a little to fit her delicate wrist.

“There, that medallion.” She nodded to another trinket out of her reach and Graham brought that down for her as well.

It was fairly simple, a silver chain with a tiny amber horse rearing rampant. Regina slipped the chain over her head and then dropped the charm beneath the collar of her sweater. Then she bent, growling a little with the pain that bloomed in her chest because of it, and picked up a finely carved black wooden box.

She handed it to Graham when she struggled with her cast to open it. He held it for her and wordlessly lifting the lid for her. He watched with interest. He had never seen her use any of this sort of thing.

She had been more than powerful enough to do without. Her control fine enough to not need the focussing tools. Her magic had frothed to her control with the slightest command. The most she had needed was the sweep of her hand or a word spat in a language he did not understand. Even then, those had often seemed to be more for dramatic effect than any true need of their help.

“Arming for bear?” He tilted his head at her and she glanced up at him from studying the contents of the box. She gave a wry smile.

“More like T-Rex.” Regina lifted the first ring contained in the box and studied it.

It was a simple band of silver and what looked to be brass threaded around it. She turned it this way and that and weighed it in her palm. She gave a short nod and a little shrug to herself and slid it onto her finger. Again, it was too big for her but shrank to fit her slim fingers. She pushed a ring onto each one of her fingers, flexing them carefully to test the fit and then did the same with the other hand, having to work them beneath the lining of the cast on that hand.

Still, she’d rather have them on than not. She took the box from him, setting it back into the cabinet and closing the doors, then seemed to hesitate.

“You need something else?”

“Yes.” She moved past him along the cabinet and slid open another one of the doors. Reaching inside, she pulled out what appeared to be a leather box. It had several different designs printed onto the leather and she held it gingerly between her thumbs and forefingers. She looked up at him and he realised that she looked nervous.

“What is it?”

“This is for your protection. Will you…let me?”

Graham looked down at the box and resisted the urge to sniff it like some kind of dog. He twisted his mouth and met her eyes once more.

“How does it work? Do I carry it around?”

“No, it’s decidedly less bulky than that.” She bit her lip and looked down at the box. “I know how it works in theory but I’ve never used it.”

“Not exactly inspiring confidence here.”

“It WILL protect you. We’re allies now, it benefits me to benefit you and –I get the feeling- that guns and knives aren’t going to be up to snuff with the Woodcutter.”

“Probably not.” Graham looked down at the box again and realised what she was really asking him.

Did he trust her?

Well, that was a loaded question. He trusted her to benefit herself, certainly. He trusted her to do what was best for Henry and he trusted her to go her own way. Whether or not that own way was in the same direction as his…but she loved him. It was strange to realise that was true but –the more time he spent with her with things honest between them- the more he believed it.

“Alright.” He decided after a long moment of lip chewing on her part. “How do I work it?”

“Roll back your shirt sleeves, you need skin on skin contact.”

Graham grunted at that but did as she bid him. He rolled back his sleeves all the way to his elbows and then held his arms out, palms up. She switched her hold so she held the box in one hand and grasped his fingers with her casted hand. She smiled for him and he began to get a sense of foreboding.

“This might sting.” Then she flipped the box and clapped the lid of it down onto the soft skin of his inner forearm.

Graham screamed and his knees buckled when the searing agony lanced him from where the box touched him. He hunched in on himself with the pain, sinking to the floor, unable to even stand. His eyes were wide and shocked and he couldn’t even wrench away from her hold.

“I’m sorry.” Regina pulled the box away and gripped his other hand.

“No…” Graham tugged on his fingers, sinking to his knees and tried to pull away from her but the pain had rendered him helpless. It hurt more than anything she had ever done to him in the past.

“I’m so sorry,” her fingers tightened on his, tears pooling in her eyes, “but I can’t leave you defenceless.”

Graham screamed again when she flipped the box and pressed the underside of the box down onto the skin of his other arm. His back arched and he bellowed so loud that he thought he’d tear his own throat out with it. He toppled backwards, unable to see anything other than bleeding images of black and red. It was unbelievable how much it hurt.

Graham came back to himself lying on the floor with his head cradled on her lap. She was curled over him, her hands stroking his hair, watching him with wet and worried eyes.

“What…” His voice was a hoarse croak and he tried again. “What did you do to me?”

“I’m sorry. It was the only way.”

“Regina, what did you do?” Graham made no move to sit up.

The aftershocks of the agony were receding, he probably could have, but he rather liked where he was. She was soft and warm and stroking his face. Combing her fingers through his hair. Her other hand rested over the heartbeat pounding in his chest. He might only have half a heart but –unless she had pulled it out to have a look- she wouldn’t be able to tell. He certainly couldn’t. It seemed overwhelmed with as much ferocity of feeling whenever he looked at her as it had since he’d gotten it back.

“I…the box belonged to a necromancer. Someone even crazier than I am. He was one of the few that I killed because he was a danger to myself and others and not just…because I was of a mind to.” Regina studied the buttons on his shirt for a long moment. “He made the boxes like this –furniture- out of the skin of people he took an interest in. He liked tattoos in particular. He was a sadist and a monster and he killed thousands. Terrorised them. Tortured them to death. Killing that many people can gain you an entourage of ghosts just _waiting_ for you to cross into their realm. So he forged weapons that could cleave even spirits. I thought it fitting that he…donate them to my armoury.”

“And you just passed them on to me?” Graham frowned at her.

He could feel that she ached for having to hurt him. She hated having to do it but she did genuinely believe it was necessary. Maybe if he hadn’t been able to feel what she felt, he’d have been blowing his stack right then, but he could feel it and he could tell that she was genuinely hurting for him.

“The Woodcutter isn’t a physical beast, not yet at least. I’m not going to sit on my laurels and wait for that to happen. This way, if he comes to you in your dreams, you won’t be defenceless.” She rubbed her hand over the steady kick of his heart behind his ribs.

He sensed no malice from her –in fact- he got the very strong sense that it comforted her.

“What about you? Did you brand yourself with a ghost weapon?”

“I don’t need one. I may not have my magic out here but –in my head- I’m nigh unto a god. He caught me by surprise, dredging up a memory to distract me from the dreamscape. He won’t get the same chance again.” Regina frowned at the very prospect, or maybe the memory.

“Alright.” He wasn’t sure he bought that, he didn’t want to underestimate the Woodcutter, but he let it go for now. “Help me up.”

Regina helped him sit up and Graham huffed out a breath. He felt a little light headed, and he was hungry, but otherwise unharmed. Looking down, he inspected the damage to his arms and his eyebrows shot up when he examined his new tattoos.

“These are going to be hard to explain.” He murmured.

On his left arm, his sword arm, swirling clouds of white and gold billowed across his skin, inked in stunning detail. Blood beaded here and there, lurid against the pale colours. It had been an actual tattoo, not just painted onto his skin. The colours seemed very bright though, brighter than he had expected, though that could have something to do with the sword the clouds surrounded. It seemed simple enough, looked to be a two handed broadsword, but it was a deep and impenetrable black. Like it was made out shadow. No, darker than that, a complete absence of light. He firmly believed that no normal tattoo could produce an ink that dark.

Examining his other arm, Graham found another tattoo filled with more improbably bright colours. This one depicted…a gun. Graham frowned. Why would a necromancer of the Enchanted Forest know what a gun even was, never mind have one etched into his skin? The tattoo’s design echoed the sword on his other arm. This time the clouds were swirling blues, greens and turquoises. The blacker than black of the gun silhouette showing it was a short barrelled rifle. The stock was intricate with negative spaces of his skin showing detail of carving in the wood there and apparently rings of silver circling the barrel.

“That’s odd.” Regina was leaning over his shoulder, raised up on her knees so he could lean back against her front if he felt he was going to topple over. “The design on the box was a crossbow.”

Graham had no response to that but he could feel her brain was on fire with the conundrum.

“Maybe because we have guns here, a repeating crossbow would be the Enchanted Forest’s equivalent of a shotgun.”

“Wonderful. What am I supposed to say when someone asks where I got them?” Graham held out his arms and twisted to look back at her.

“Look confused and say you’ve had them for years.” Regina didn’t seem over concerned with it.

“You really think that will work?”

“I _know_ it will work.” Regina reached around him to gently take his wrist in her hand.

She sucked in a breath at what she felt. The shield bracelet around her wrist shimmering briefly.

“Good.”

“What is?”

“They’ve bonded to you. There was a chance they wouldn’t. They’ll answer to your call.”

“And how –exactly- am I supposed to call them?”

"I'm not entirely sure." Regina admitted, studying the tattoos a moment longer. "The bulk of magic is made of willpower and you are by far one of the most stubborn men I have ever known. I'm certain you can figure it out."

"Great." Graham made as if to rise and waited for her to get out of the way before he laboured carefully to his feet. He felt lightheaded still, hungry and thirsty, but not terrible. “Is this what I would have felt had I had the tattoos inked on normally?”

“Yes, the pain would have been stretched over several hours as well. Given your body a chance to produce endorphins to combat it. I’m…sorry.”

“Next time, ask me. I’m accustomed to pain.”

“I didn’t want you to say no.” Her voice was small. She remembered who had taught him that tolerance.

Graham looked down at her and sighed.

That was going to take some work. She was still accustomed to him being the pet. She’d ever been the stronger between the two of them and she just wasn’t getting that the tables had been turned. She didn’t have her magic anymore –at least not in the same way- and she didn’t have his leash…also not in the same way.

“Let’s just find this book you’re after.” Graham was starving. He wanted out of this cave and back to the fresh air. He wanted food and he wanted her behind the wards that would keep the Woodcutter out.

“If it’s anywhere, it should be over here.” Regina nodded in a darker section of the library and Graham resisted the urge to growl.

Of course it was going to be in the creepy shadowed space.

Which, it turned out, was false.

As they approached, Regina found a mirror that had become disconnected from the same mechanism that rotated the others to keep the sun’s light spilling into the chamber. It was a moment’s fiddling on her part to have the mirror at the correct angle to complete the circuit and spill light into that corner of the room. Graham almost felt cheated.

Regina immediately set to work and Graham tried to help but he had never been a great reader and he certainly couldn’t speak any language that he came across. He knew Wulven because he had been raised to speak it. He knew human because he had set his entire mind to learning it.

Regina knew every language under the sun and a few more besides because she seemed to just absorb them on contact.

A skill that had stood her in good stead at the negotiation table more than once back in the Enchanted Forest. It is easy to eavesdrop on your opposition when they believe you have no concept of what they’re saying unless the translator is communicating for them.

He remembered that she had only ever revealed the skill once.

A Telmarine prince of lesser station had apparently expressed an interest in stealing Graham away from the queen. He had gone on in vivid detail to describe to his nobleman exactly what he was going to use Graham for –apparently Graham would never have been able to walk properly again afterward- and Regina’s patience had snapped.

She had set fire to him.

From the crotch up.

Graham had been forced to bribe this information from the interpreter afterwards –a young girl of a nervous disposition that Regina had taken from the Telmarine prince as payment for the insult levelled against her pet.

Regina had gone on to mention that any retribution the prince might think to enact with his uncle’s navy fleet would see the same fate befall any and all men under his command. Needless to say, the emasculated prince hadn’t had many flock to his banner for that crusade.

“A little help?”

Graham blinked, drawn back to the real world and hurried to help Regina pull down a heavy tome from the shelf above her head.

It was large, about A3 size and so thick he could barely span it with his fingers. He thumped it down onto the nearby table and stood back so she could open it and flip through the thick velum pages. Graham was glad there was no dust.

The library was old, parts of it contained truly ancient books, but there was no dust or filth. It was messy, all the books having been crammed in there by the magic of the curse, but not dirty.

Looking down over her shoulder, Graham frowned at the pictures he could see illuminated in the ancient pages.

“Cheery stuff.” A lot of the pictures were dominated by Arterial Spray Red and many of the characters appeared to be twisted in the throes of mortal agony, even if the illustrations were stylised like stained glass windows. “A torturers manual?”

“Similar.” Regina flipped through more pages. “A children’s fairy tale book.”

Graham stiffened and she chuckled.

“Oh, the Brothers Grimm had _nothing_ on the cautionary tales from our world. Mutilation and damnation were common themes. This book is to Brothers Grimm as Brothers Grimm is to Disney.” Regina studied some of the spidery writing in the margin of one particularly charming illustration of a young woman having both feet severed by a single sweep of a carving knife. A spectral horror of smoke and fire filling the page behind her expression of wide eyed agony.

“People read these stories to their children?”

“A little terror is a healthy part of childhood. It means they won’t go with that strange man that offers them candy or think they can run across a busy intersection without being turned into a fine red mist by a passing eighteen wheeler. The Enchanted Forest was not known by that name when this book was written.”

“What was it called?”

“The Blackwood.”

Regina continued to flip through the pages and missed the way he stiffened behind her.

“The…Blackwood…?”

“Yes, millennia ago. The Blackwood covered the entire continent that is now blanketed by the Enchanted Forest, for the most part. With the advent of agriculture, deforestation, the magic that made the Blackwood so…black receded to the wilderness of the North West of the country. It was –and I suppose still is- a source of ancient and wild magic that has never been tamed by the hands of men.”

“Or women.”

“I could have if I’d wanted to.” Regina spoke mildly and it was only the flicker of amusement from her heart that he caught that let him know she was joking.

He smiled despite himself and then applied himself to what she was telling him.

“So…the Enchanted Forest and the Blackwood were once one and the same?”

“In a very simplistic way of looking at things…yes.”

“So, similarly simplistically, the magic that was in the Blackwood still exists in the Enchanted Forest?”

“Well, that is quite the point. The magic that we manipulated in the Enchanted Forest was nothing save the pale shadow of the tempestuous forces that roiled through the Blackwood. The difference between the two is as pronounced as that between a wolf and a dog. Mankind has tamed and harnessed one but we are still terrified of the other. We –sorcerers- as a people are simply not advanced enough to meddle in the forces that lived in the Blackwood. So we routed them and sent them running. Cut down the ancient enchanted trees to spill more light in the Blackwood and banished the elementals that lived in the dark to the places that we could not live.”

Something flipped over in Graham and snarled at the very thought but he battened it down. He reminded himself that Regina hadn’t done that, her ancestors had…his ancestors too. He reminded himself repeatedly that she was his ally.

“So it was the first sorcerers that created the Woodcutter, that unleashed him upon the Blackwood?”

Regina blinked and her fingers twitched once on the pages of the book she still held.

“That’s…fantastic!” Her eyes widened. “Yes! That makes sense!”

She whirled on the spot, eyes tracking over the shelves and then spun, hurrying away from him. Graham chased after her as she ran down the stacks, dodging around towers of leaning books and pyramids of scrolls.

“Regina!” Graham tried to catch her but she knew where she was going and she was smaller and more agile than he. “Regina, you’re going to pull a stitch!”

“I’m fine.” Regina’s harsh breathing belied that but she hurled herself up the ladder canted against a particularly overstuffed row of shelves and began murmuring the titles of the books to herself as she hurriedly read them sideways.

“You want to share what’s going on?” Graham paced back and forth beneath the ladder, warily waiting for her to topple from it, prepared to catch her when she did.

“I was being an idiot.” Regina kicked out and wheeled the ladder along a few feet. “I wasn’t going back far enough. Yes, the Woodcutter was a fairy tale –even in our land- but all fables have a root in reality. There is a grain of truth in all of the best lies. He had to have been based on something.”

“Something like?”

“An ancient spell, created to make the lands safe for human habitation, to tame the magic for the use of the first sorcerers.” Regina grunted when she found the book she wanted and hauled ineffectually at it.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine.” Regina panted, took both hands off the ladder, set them to the spine of the book and hauled.

“You’re not, you’re going to- -Regina!” Graham lunged when she lifted a foot to plant it against the shelves and kicked off, finally succeeding in yanking the book free and catapulting herself off the ladder. Graham huffed out a harassed breath when he caught them both and grimaced at the searing pain that burned his arms when he was forced to catch her on his fresh tattoos.

“See? I’m fine.” Regina hopped down out of his hold and hurriedly opened the book, flipping through the pages. They were so old they crackled, the text so dense and finely illuminated that it looked like static rampantly mating with a geometry textbook. “Oh…Druidiform…super.”

“You can read that?” Graham looked over her shoulder, there weren’t even any pictures for him to hazard a guess at.

“Well…’read’ is inaccurate. It’s more like…absorb.” Regina caught her tongue between her teeth and began trailing her fingers over the blotted symbols that were supposedly letters. She frowned. “Hmm…this is the right book, it’s about the cutting of enchanted trees.”

“Is that different from regular trees?”

“Oh yes,” Regina laughed, “as different as rock candy is from a stick of dynamite.”

Graham huffed out a long breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was too hungry for this.

“So, we’re on the right track, if that was what the Woodcutter was for.”

“Yes, but druids had a fairly fluid idea of time. The chapters jump around a little. You see, it goes from cauterising the flow of magic from the geysers of the enchanted trees to…uh, pig husbandry.”

Graham subjected her to a particularly heavy look.

“It’s not my fault that the druids –on the whole- were stoned off their faces for the majority of their time on this plane of existence.” Regina arched a brow at him and kept flipping through the pages, stopping with a jolt when Graham suddenly clapped his hand over a page and forced the book to fall open there.

“This one has pictures.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Regina heaved out a breath of annoyance her hand coming to rest on the margins of that particular page and she stiffened as if electrified when the information contained therein blazed white hot through her mind.

“Regina? What is it?”

“It…” Regina tried desperately to get herself under control despite the ringing in her ears.

What were the odds? Really, what were the odds of the book containing the information on the Woodcutter being the same book that she needed to research the ramifications of dying for Graham? She stared down at the illustration. A heart, crystalized, enchanted, spanned the divide of the spine between two pages right in the centre of the book. Another heart, its colours slightly different, shadowed the first heart. It looked almost like it was just one heart and a half actually.

Regina’s fingers trailed over the symbols and pictograms spiralling outwards from the two hearts and huffed out a slow breath.

This…this was bad.

“What’s it about?” Graham was looking down at her intently. Something in his voice warned her not to lie. Rather, warned her that he would know and call her on it.

Regina looked up at him. What was she supposed to say? The truth? Hell no.

“The two hearts, what does it mean? You’ve gone pale.”

“I…my chest hurts.” Regina lit on the first thing that was true and might be a plausible excuse.

He scowled at her immediately.

“I told you not to run. You’d better not have pulled anything out.” Graham took the book from her.

Regina’s fingers slid from the pages and it snapped closed, cutting off the empathic reading.

“Is this place going to fall apart if we take this away with us?”

“What? No. It’s a library, not the Temple of Doom.” Regina looked at the ceiling and then corrected herself. “At least, not this part.”

Graham subjected her to a long and heavy look and huffed out a slow breath.

“Right. Good to know.” He took her hand and tugged her towards the doors. The sooner they left, the sooner he could eat. They had almost made it out of the catacombs before Graham remembered what he had wanted to know.

He turned to look down at her, hitching the book higher under his arm for a better grip.

“What was that page about? It was the only one with pictures on it.”

Regina looked up at him and blinked slowly. He could feel her trying to lie, trying to think of something, anything else to tell him but, when she did speak, it was the truth. She mustered a lopsided smile and shrugged a shoulder.

“Nothing important.” Her eyes dropped to the book and she stared at it as if it was toxic.

“If it’s nothing important, why won’t you tell me?”

“I’m not refusing to tell you, I just don’t think you’ll be all that interested.”

“And yet I’m asking questions about it.” Graham raised his eyebrows at her and she huffed out a sigh.

He felt a flash of irritation from her and a streak of stark lemon yellow panic that cut through her a mile wide. She was afraid, similarly to the feelings he had felt from her when she’d been forced to hurt him. Her heart was pounding against the half of his that lay in her chest and he could feel she was getting wound tighter and tighter the longer the conversation went on.

Feelings that were completely at odds with the nonchalant shrug she showed him.

“Marriage. It was about marriage.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 – Words That Stick**

 

_**The Vault…** _

 

“Marriage.”

Graham’s voice echoed around the catacombs which suddenly didn’t seem as extensive as they were.

Regina sucked in a deep breath of air that felt too thick to breathe and felt her head nodding without conscious thought on her part. She stopped quickly, before her brain splashed into nothing against the insides of her skull and pressed her lips together.

Graham frowned at her and took a step closer.

“Explain.”

“What’s to explain?” Regina lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just a chapter in the book. It means…”

“It means something. You’re terrified.”

“I am NOT…”

“Pet, you’re bloody shaking.” Graham pointed out gently, his frown –had it been on anyone else’s face- might have been concerned.

“I’m fine.” Regina tried to step away from his outstretched hand but her feet refused to budge.

She felt it now. She had been feeling it since she woke up in the hospital and perhaps even before that. That connection. That tug. That tie that bound her to him. She shuddered when she realised fully that it was real. That it wasn’t some hallucination on her part but an actual phenomenon that not even a world without magic could sever.

“You’re anything but fine.”

Regina’s jaw clenched.

“Can we just get out of here? I really don’t think this is the time or place for…this.”

“And what is this?”

Regina scrubbed a hand through her hair and let out an explosive breath.

“Can we just _not?_ ”

“No.” Graham’s frown deepened. “You’ve not to hide anything from me anymore. Especially when it scares you. We’re in this together. I told you that. If you’re not honest with me…he’s going to kill us both. I need to be able to trust you.

” “How can you trust me?!” Regina demanded. “How could you POSSIBLY trust a monster like me?! I _used_ you. For decades. You were a _thing_ to me. Not even a person. Not even an animal. I was your jailor and your tormentor and now you stand there and tell me that I need to trust you because you need to trust me?” Regina stopped herself before her voice rose completely into a shriek. She stood, shoulders heaving with every breath, her chest aching and her eyes burning.

“I broke you.” She gulped then, realising it was true. “You can never forgive me and you can never trust me so don’t… _lie_ to me about it.”

Graham waited her out. Let her get it all out of her system before he spoke.

He reached out, spanning her jaw with his hand and lifting her face until she had to look him in the eye. He waited until he had her complete and undivided attention.

“Can you ever forgive me for killing you?”

Regina sucked in a sharp breath.

“I murdered you, Regina. I killed you.”

“To be fair,” Regina forced the words out, “I deserved it.”

“Maybe.” He stepped closer, tugging her into his shadow with his hold on her jaw. “Not by my hand though. Never at the hands of the man you love.”

She flinched at those words and his thumb swiped gently back and forth over her cheek to try and soothe her.

“I told you before. I’m used to having it thrown back in my face.”

“I am not them.”

“No. You’re worse.” Regina dropped her gaze from his the instant he released her chin. She stared at his chest until the materials of his shirt and waistcoat blurred together. “You are the greatest atrocity I ever committed. I took you and I used you and I abused you and I shattered you into a monster almost as bad as I am. I…I am sorry.”

It seemed like such a useless and paltry thing. So few words for the depth and range of feeling that stormed inside her. She never felt like she had the words to express what she felt. She could have been able to speak every language ever known and those not yet born and she’d never have words enough. How could he ever understand that she truly meant it and –even if he did- what difference would it make? Her shame, her guilt, meant nothing.

She couldn’t take back what she had done. She might wish she could, but if wishes were horses…

“I believe you.”

Regina huffed a sound almost like a laugh.

“Impossible. How can you say that? You were my toy. My thing to amuse me at night.”

“Yes. I was…and you were my punching bag.”

She frowned at him.

“I _tore_ at you, pet. I bit and scratched and bruised. I did things to you that no man should ever do to a woman.”

“I asked you to.”

“Which is why we work together.” Graham huffed out a slow breath. “I’m an animal, pet. I’m wild and savage and anyone less than that would just be devoured by the beast in me. You caged that part of me. Controlled it. Gave it a _use_. You stopped _me_ from being a monster by being monster enough for both of us.”

“So, what, we’re even?”

“Exactly.”

“If what you’re saying is true, if we’re both monsters, we’ll destroy one another.”

“No. We’ll become unstoppable. We’re not monsters anymore. We tamed one another.”

“I’m a psychopath. You don’t tame that.”

“Maybe you were but not anymore.” Graham shrugged. “It’s in you. Just as the wolf is in me, but you changed. I told you that I remember everything. I remember you caring for me. I remember your kindness. I remember the gifts and the birthdays and the Christmases. I remember the thanksgivings and the dancing and the lock-ins at Granny’s when we would talk until dawn about nothing and everything.”

“What can I say? I began to believe my own lie.”

“If we both believe it, is it a lie anymore?”

Regina gulped down what she was going to say and shook her head.

“I’m too broken.”

“No. You _were_ broken. Being here let you heal. Let you start to at any rate. Until the book and Henry running away, you were so different to the woman that cursed an entire world because she hurt too much to face it anymore.”

“And look what happened!” Regina waved her hand wildly and shrugged off the wince of pain it caused her. “As soon as things didn’t go my way, I reverted.”

“And when you realised you were losing me, you set me free.” Graham ducked his head a little so she had to look him in the eye. “You loved me enough to let me go. You died to make it happen. If that’s not redemption enough, I don’t know what is.”

Regina had no answer for that.

“Now, trust me and tell me. What’s this about marriage that’s got you so upset?”

Regina rigidly controlled her breathing. Her eyes burned but she couldn’t look away from him. She let out a shuddering breath and rallied her strength. She had never felt weaker, not even when she’d been dying. She had never been so scared.

“I died for you.”

“I killed you.” Graham nodded.

“Well…turns out…that has repercussions.”

“Like?” Graham prodded when she seemed to stall.

“Like…mating my soul to yours.”

Graham frowned.

“I thought soulmates were dictated by fate.”

“They are but it can be…manufactured.” Regina struggled to explain. “Soulmates are incredibly powerful. If you think about how powerful True Love’s Kiss is and that’s just the PG version of two souls coming together. Making love,” she stumbled over the words, “is exponentially more powerful and a mating of souls is even more powerful than that. The druids figured out how to mate one soul to another outwith the edicts of the fates. I didn’t get all of it, but I suspect that it was that power which allowed them to conjure the Woodcutter in the first place.”

She couldn’t look at him as she spoke. Tried to keep her voice dry and remote. Devoid of emotion.

“So we are soulmates now because we chose to be?”

“No. I am your soulmate because I died for you. I am bound to you for the rest of eternity. There will never be another for me. You, however, suffer no such affliction. You’re free of me.”

“It is entirely one sided?”

“Yes.” Regina lifted a shoulder. “It is not without its benefits. Had we been back in the Enchanted Forest, I’d be more powerful than ever but –as it stands- that’s about as useful as a chocolate teapot.”

“Wait, am I understanding this? You have bound your soul to me and there’s nothing I can do in return?”

“The rite is done. By accident, yes, but it is done. I…I love you and I died. My soul sepertated from my body in that moment and –when you revived me- it bound it to yours. Had you done something then, something of comparable sacrifice as giving up your life, then it would have gone both ways but –as it is- I am enslaved to you.” Regina mustered something of a bitter smile and spread her hands. “It would seem you were right, the tables really have turned.”

Graham could only stare at her. He felt a powerful need to sit down.

Soulmates. They were soulmates. Marriage was too paltry a word for it. That kind of connection, one that would last for the rest of their lives and beyond, and it had happened by accident?

He frowned. That couldn’t be right. Things of this magnitude didn’t just _happen_. He found it impossible to believe that her soul could have bound to his without SOMETHING from him in return…something like half of his heart, maybe?

Graham staggered backwards and the book thudded from his numb fingers to slam onto the floor with an echoing bang that made her flinch.

“Graham?” Regina frowned at him. “Graham, what’s wrong?”

“Bastard thing…” Graham turned away from her and scrubbed both his hands down over his face. No way. No way was this an ACCIDENT. Things like this couldn’t just happen. Not by themselves. Such powerful magic required intent. It needed power. A power so ancient, so wild, that it couldn’t be constrained nor bothered by such things as free will.

“Graham, you’re not making any sense.” Regina’s fingers hesitantly touched his elbow and he whirled to face her so quickly that she hopped back a step in alarm.

“This was done to us.”

“What?” Regina shook her head. “No, Graham, you misunderstand. No one can make something like this happen.”

“A person couldn’t, no. No mortal creature, but a monster, a monster as fierce as the Woodcutter, a monster like that could do it.”

Regina’s frown deepened.

“You’ve lost me.”

“The Wolf At the Door.” Graham hunched his shoulders in a shrug. “He told me this was to be my fight. He sent me away to the Enchanted Forest to hide, to grow and to find a power that would help me defeat the Woodcutter. You. He sent me to find you.”

“Sent you?” There were so many things that needed questioning from that statement so she started with what she thought was the easiest. “Sent you from where?”

“From the Blackwood. Where I was born.”

Regina’s brows shot up and she made a very quiet but high pitched sound in the back of her throat. She coughed and then muscled a response for him.

“Excuse me?”

“I was born in the Blackwood and I was raised by the wolves there. I stumbled across the Wolf At the Door and the corpse of the Woodcutter and I awoke them both. The Wolf passed his task to me and sent me away, far away, to a place where I might survive long enough to find a power strong enough to defeat the Woodcutter.”

“So, let me get this straight, some _rug_ threw you half a world away into my greedy little clutches to be kept as a pet to make you…stronger?”

“You can’t deny that I’m stronger now than I was when I came to you. Besides, I doubt he intended it to happen that way but he did mean for this.” He waved between them. “We’re allies now. Equals. He meant for us to fight the Woodcutter together.”

“Well, that’s all well and good, but we’re not IN the Enchanted Forest are we?” Regina threw her arm wide and regretted it immediately. She soldiered on. “We’re in the entirely wrong dimension! How am I supposed to defeat this monster with a power I don’t even have?!”

“WE are going to beat it by breaking the curse.” Graham stepped forward and gripped her by the shoulders, grounding her. “You’re not alone and I won’t let him get you. We’re going to break the curse, go back to the Enchanted Forest and behead him with his own axe.”

“You’re just a mortal man, Graham. How can you possibly hope to defend me against something so powerful as the _shadow_ of the beast I felt earlier? A shadow so heavy it would have crushed me into jelly had it fallen on me.”

“I’m not ‘just’ anything. I am the Huntsman. I am the Wolf At the Door. I am your mate, your husband, your protector.” He watched her eyes go wide with those words but he didn’t care right now if she didn’t believe him. He had to say the words. They might not have had marriage vows but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make such promises all the same. “I was wild and savage before I came to you and you honed me into a killing machine. I doubt there is a creature in any of the worlds that could look me in the eye now and not feel a frisson of mortal fear. I might not be the Woodcutter’s equal _yet_ but the day will come and –when it does- you’ll be ready to destroy him.”

“You really believe that?”

“Aye, I do.”

“I can’t decide if that’s wilful stupidity or boundless optimism.”

“Maybe a mix of both.” Graham flashed a sudden grin at her and she just frowned at him in bemusement.

He released her shoulders and stooped to pick up the book.

“Now, let’s go and eat something. I’m starving.” He held out his hand to her and Regina could only stare at it for the longest moment.

Slowly, as if expecting him to pull away at any second, she slipped her fingers into his.

He nodded once, gripping her hand firmly, and pulled her towards the surface and back into the light.

 

_**The Manor…** _

 

The truck growled to a halt outside the Mayoral Manor and Graham wasted no time in hustling Regina out of the vehicle and behind her wards.

The little wall of salt had been absorbed into the bedrock of the path and only the slightly grubby surface of the flipped stone would let anyone know that anything had been changed at all. He ignored her tension when his arm settled over her shoulders and he propelled them both up the path, waiting impatiently whilst she unlocked the door to let them inside. He seethed out a breath when he felt the pressure of the secondary wards locking into place within the actual walls of the house.

“Mom!” Henry slithered out of the living room, sliding on the marble floors in his socks and sprinted towards her.

“Gently!” Graham hoisted the boy up off the floor, legs still churning, before he could crash full pelt into Regina.

“Right, right, right.” Henry wriggled his way out of Graham’s hold and gently wound his arms around Regina’s waist. He murmured into the thick wool of her sweater. “You okay? You didn’t see him again?”

“I’m fine and Graham was there to keep him away.” She stroked his hair and Henry nuzzled his face deeper into the wool of her sweater.

Henry peered up at Graham with one eye and Graham shrugged a shoulder. He doubted that was the case at all, but if it made Henry feel better he would play along.

“More storybooks?” Emma spoke from the doorway of the living room and Regina stiffened.

She had almost forgotten about the book that Graham held under his arm still. She wasn’t worried about Emma being able to read it, you had to believe –or know- about magic in order to understand it and Miss Swan was still under the impression that Henry was just a few fries short of a Happy Meal.

“Is it?” Henry pulled away from Regina a little to study the book. “Will it tell us how to break the curse?”

“Something like that.” Regina didn’t look away from Emma as she spoke and the deputy didn’t bother to hide her frown nor the way her arms folded over her chest.

The kid had mentioned something about Regina getting on board with the idea of the curse but she hadn’t really believed it until she’d heard it from the woman herself. She must be getting desperate for Henry’s affections, Emma surmised, if she was playing along with his imagination.

“It’s more of a history book. To tell us about…the man who was chasing us this afternoon.” Regina swept Henry’s hair back out of his face and then smiled. “Have you eaten?”

Henry shook his head and smiled when hers broadened.

“You must be starving. Why don’t you go and look in the cupboards and see what’s for dinner. Then we can all laugh at Graham trying to cook.”

“I can cook!” Graham protested and she rolled her eyes at that pronouncement.

Henry giggled and took a hesitant step away.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Regina reassured him and then he nodded, turning to trot deeper into the house and disappear into the kitchen. They all watched him go and Regina counted down in her head.

3…2…1…

“Alright, I’ll bite, this is a hell of a turnaround.” Emma nodded to the book. “What happened to Henry needing to go to a shrink for his ‘overactive imagination’?”

“What happened to you abandoning him to be raised by someone else?” Regina arched an eyebrow. “It is _amazingly_ convenient how quick you are to forget that.”

“Regina.” Graham’s fingers grazed her elbow and she glared at him. He tilted his head and tried to get through to her.

They had to be careful with how they broached this with Emma. Her going to the town council and declaring that both Regina and Graham had lost their minds was a roadblock they could do without. Right now, not alienating Emma was probably the best course of action.

Regina looked as pissy as she felt about it but she nodded curtly. Fine. She’d play nice. For now.

“Suffice to say there’s more going on here than you’ve been told.”

Emma tilted her head at Regina. Well, hadn’t that been fucking obvious?

“Who is he?” She said instead. “Who’s after you?”

Graham and Regina glanced at one another with one of those speaking glances of theirs.

Emma had never seen people hold entire conversations with just a look before she’d taken a good long look at how Regina and Graham regarded one another.

“Someone from my past.” Graham finally spoke to Emma. His jaw clenched with admittance. “I think he’s after Regina because she’s…mine.”

He tried to tone down his language but he found himself completely incapable of it.

Regina had told him about the bond between them and he’d heard the words right down to his very core. She was his, his mate, that was all he needed to know. He hadn’t allowed himself to tap into his wolf nature for such a LONG time and now it was prowling about his head like his very skin was a cage that was too small for it.

Regina’s head snapped up to look at him and she frowned. Well, he hadn’t said _that_ in their silent little conversation.

“Do you know his name? Where he’s from? Can you give me a description?”

“I know his working name, he’s from the same place I am and the description I give will be of no use to you. He’s not in any database you can access.” Graham’s tone shut down that line of questioning. Hard.

“I think you’re underestimating my resources.” Emma’s fingers bit into her arms as her irritation spiked.

“I think you’re severely overestimating how long you’d last against this man.” Graham’s voice was a cold clip. “He’d kill you without breaking stride. The only thing saving you right now is that he’s under the impression you don’t know about him.”

“And how do we know this?”

“Because you’re not dead.” Graham’s voice was flat and even Regina was surprised at how brutal he was being.

Up until a few days ago he’d been ready to bed the little chit and now he was growling at her like she’d shaved him in his sleep. The Woodcutter really had frightened him it seemed.

“He’s really…that bad?” Emma looked like she was finally getting it and this wasn’t two town officials going vigilante. This was the Sheriff and the Mayor trying to protect the everyone from a man that might well be as bad as they believed.

“He’s worse.” Graham spoke with utter surety. “Rivers will run red if he has his chance. I endeavour not to give it to him.”

“Shouldn’t we warn people?” Emma waved a hand wildly. “Get people to stay inside at night, not go anywhere alone, anything other than let them wander about with a psychopath on the loose?”

“I’ve been in office for years.” Regina shrugged a shoulder and Graham shot her a glare.

Ah, perhaps not the time for her brand of humour then.

“So long as we’re both alive, he’ll remain fixated on us.” Graham waved at himself and Regina. “He sees us as the only obstacles in his path. He takes us out and he can do what he likes.”

Emma frowned and held up her hands.

“This isn’t making any sense. Why won’t you even tell me his name?”

“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you.” Regina finally wriggled her way out of Graham’s jacket, turning automatically so he could help her out of it. “It would be kinder.”

Emma blinked at that. It hadn’t been a word of a lie. Her eyes darted from Regina to Graham and his steady gaze silently voiced his agreement.

“You guys are really beginning to creep me out.” Emma admitted.

“Good. You might live longer that way.” Regina took the book from Graham and turned with a smile when she saw Henry rejoin them. “Did you decide what you want?”

“There’s stuff for tuna pasta.”

“Really? That’s all?”

“It’s easy. Even Graham should manage it.” Henry padded closer, looking between Emma, Graham and his mom.

“I can cook.” Graham threw up his hands. “Honest!”

“Of course you can, dear.” Regina petted his arm and bent as if to unbuckle her boots, she winced when her stitches pulled.

Graham took her shoulder, straightening her up and then dropped to a knee to help her out of the boots. Buckles clipped an inch apart all the way up the back of her leg to her knee. He glared up at her.

“How did you even get into these?”

“Drug induced nirvana.” Regina rested a hand against the wall, one foot on Graham’s knee and doing her best to ignore the feel of his fingers sliding up the back of her leg. She looked over to Henry instead. “Could you pour me a glass of water and find my purse? My pills are in it still, I think.”

“I put them in the medicine cabinet. Out of my reach.” Henry said with utmost seriousness.

It was only Regina that managed to hold his gaze with only the barest twitch of her lips revealing her amusement.

“Okay, Graham can get them for me when he goes to massacre dinner.”

“I can sodding well cook.” Graham grumbled, undoing the last of the clasps of her boots, setting Regina’s foot back down on the floor.

He wiped the dust from the catacombs that had clung to her boots on his pants and rose to his full height.

“Yes, dear.” Regina smiled over sweet up at him and he arched a brow at her. She held out her hand and Henry dutifully took it in his own, pulling her towards the kitchen. “We’re going to set up a splash zone for your cooking.”

“And that’s my cue.” Emma stepped back to let Regina and Henry pass her by and went to the coat hook to retrieve her jacket. She had no desire to sit through an awkward dinner if Henry could talk Regina around to inviting her for tuna pasta.

“You’re going?” Henry frowned drawing to a halt. Regina surprisingly made no move to hurry him along.

“Yeah, I’ve got the night shift.” Emma nodded to Graham to indicate the Sheriff’s department.

“Oh, okay, be careful.” Henry shifted from foot to foot and looked up at Regina.

Regina sighed and looked over to Graham. He nodded.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He turned, opening the door and ushered Emma outside. He closed it behind him with a quiet clip.

She rounded on him immediately.

“You cannot seriously expect me to swallow this crap.”

“I can and you will.”

“This is vigilante bullshit!” Emma let herself be herded towards the yellow Bug but didn’t stop complaining.

“This is the way it is.” Graham let a little growl creep into his voice and the way she fell back a step let him know she’d heard. “You can either be patient and help when the time comes or you can come at Regina like a goddamn rhino and see what it gets you. Looking at past experiences should be a pretty fair way of telling the future in that regard.”

“Yeah, well,” Emma looked down at the sidewalk and scuffed her toe against the brickwork, “subtlety isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

“No shit.” Graham snorted and rubbed at his eyes. “We’re going to need you on this but you have to give me time to talk her around.”

“Oh, sure, in the mean time she can get herself killed.”

“False concern doesn’t suit you.” Graham folded his arms over his chest

. “My concern is plenty real.” Emma snapped. “So long as Regina is a target, so is Henry, or is he not yours too?”

“Henry’s a child, no threat to him. He won’t care about him until both Regina and myself are dead. Which I’m not really in favour of happening. So Henry is safe.”

“Then let me HELP!”

“I’m trying.” Graham snapped. “If you’d get over your pride for two damn minutes…”

“MY pride? What about Regina’s? She’s the one that’s locking me out, according to you.” Emma prodded him in the chest with a finger and snatched it back out of reach just as quickly when something stark and ferocious swam behind his eyes.

“Do not do that again.” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but it might have been kinder if he had screamed at her.

“Sorry, I…I’m sorry.” Emma tunnelled her fingers through her hair. “I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.”

Graham snorted at the irony. All Henry had done since she’d bloody arrived was tell her what was going on.

No, she wasn’t ready yet.

He’d been partially truthful when he’d said he needed to talk Regina around before they could bring Emma in on things. They also needed to wait until Emma was at the point where she might actually believe that the man she was after was an ancient power of distilled evil designed to destroy everything wild and free in the world.

“Be patient.” He told her. Again. “I’ll talk her around. The moment you can be useful, we’ll use you.”

Emma watched him for a long moment and shifted her weight. Her jaw clenched and she scrubbed a hand through her hair again.

“You’re really standing together with her on this, aren’t you?” She looked up at him. “What happened to not being able to feel anything?”

“I had a change of heart.” Graham somehow managed to say it with a straight face.

“You found it then?” Emma lifted her hands and then let them slap down against her thighs. “She have it in her purse all this time?”

Graham barked a laugh before he could stop himself and scrubbed a hand over his mouth to try and control his smile. Maybe it was hysteria but he felt he had to take his laughs were he could.

“Suffice to say that both my heart and myself are where we belong.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and his smile slipped from his lips. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” She spoke too quickly for it to be the truth and he nodded.

“I’m still sorry.”

“I’ll get over it.” Emma shrugged a shoulder and looked down at his shoes. She forced her gaze back up to his. “You made your choice. All you have to do now, is live with it.”

Graham arched a brow at her, letting her know she was skating close to the precipice that was his patience again and she ducked her head in a nod. Warning received and heeded.

“She’s not as bad as you think she is.”

“Oh, she’s worse?”

“Get in the car.” Graham told her firmly and Emma took the out so readily offered.

She ducked into the Bug and started the engine. Lifting her hand in a half-hearted wave, she pulled away from the kerb and out into the road. Graham watched her until the car disappeared around the bend in the road and Emma only then felt safe enough to voice her suspicions. Even if they were just to an empty car.

“So, Mister Sheriff, why do you and Regina have all that dust on your shoes?” Emma indicated when she came up to the junction.

She turned _away_ from the signs pointing to Main Street and the direction of the Sheriff’s station. She drove along at a sedate pace until she found the turn off for the cemetery.

“Dust that looks exactly like the stuff it took me a week to clean out of my boots when we went heart hunting in the Mills Mausoleum.”

Emma pulled the car into the lot and killed the engine.

Even from there, she could see the tall marble building built along similar lines to Regina’s house. All clean lines and pillars. That freaking tree motif embedded in the roof. It occurred to her then that Emma didn’t know very much about Regina’s family.

Sure, she was the Mayor and she had that huge house. She dressed expensively and her family emblem was the same as that of the town which all spoke of Regina coming from Money. Old Money. How old?

She visited her father’s grave every Wednesday but there were no pictures of him in the manor, not even a portrait, and absolutely no mention of her mother.

Regina had said that the man after her came from the same place that Graham and she did…which would mean Storybrooke if the history of the Mills’ family name was to be believed.

The language Regina and Graham had spoken to one another had been like nothing Emma had ever heard before. Not German but similar, definitely no kind of Native American dialect that might be from these parts. Regina had said it was something like Romani –Eastern European, half a world away- Graham sounded Irish.

None of this made any damn sense.

How could Regina’s family be one of the town’s founders and Regina herself have come from somewhere else? This same mysterious elsewhere that Graham supposedly hailed from. Something wasn’t right and not just a potential killer walking the streets.

There were secrets within secrets in this town and Emma was going to unravel them one at a time until she found out what the hell was going on.

She had the sneaking suspicion that it was going to begin and end with certain Mayors.

Emma made a mental note to have a look at the town records and find out a little bit more about Regina. She threw open her car door and heaved herself out into the amber sunlight of falling evening.

Though, before she did any reading, she was going to find out what the hell was in that mausoleum that could apparently help Regina and Graham catch a killer.

It was time for some answers.

 

_**Back at the Manor…** _

 

“This is good!” Henry shovelled more tuna pasta into his mouth.

“Always the tone of surprise.” Graham murmured and ate at a more sedate pace. “I told you I could cook.”

“I must confess that I’m as surprised as Henry.” Regina picked at her pasta and willed the nausea that accompanied her pills to disperse. “I thought your talents restricted to the open fire.”

“I suppose that makes sense if you were the Huntsman.” Henry mulled it over, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t think there’s many gas hobs in the Enchanted Forest, right?”

“Actually, there was no such thing as gas.” Regina lifted a forkful of pasta to her mouth and changed her mind when her drugged stomach flipped over in protest. This was probably the blandest meal they could have made and she still couldn’t cram it down. “Well, there probably was, but no one had thought to mine or harness it in such a fashion.”

Both Graham and Henry froze and looked wildly at one another. They slowly looked over at Regina.

She sipped her water and continued to toy with her pasta.

“Are you alright, pet?” Graham spoke tentatively.

“Aside from being drugged up to my eyeballs, unable to bend down, reach up or crack open a boiled egg without assistance, I’m peachy keen.” Regina mustered a smile from somewhere. “For the record, I prefer ‘luvzhang’ to ‘pet’.”

“Mom, you just…you just talked about the curse as if it was real.” Henry could scarcely believe it.

She had said she would tell him the truth but he hadn’t…he hadn’t expected her to actually do it. He wasn’t crazy. He really wasn’t crazy. He’d hoped that the curse was real in the way that the only sane person left on the planet hopes that they are in fact the sane one and not the only crazy one.

He stared at Regina for a full minute, only managing to muster a shocked blink as a physical response to her finally revealing that it was all true. It was all real. Henry let out an explosive sigh and tried to ignore the world tilting alarmingly around him. Somebody stop the room, he wanted to get off.

“Of course I did.” Regina forced a mouthful of pasta down her neck. “It is real.”

Graham’s brows made a dash for his hairline and he reached up to rub at the back of his neck. Henry continued to gape.

“A little warning might have been nice…luvzhang.”

She offered Graham a scant smile.

“Loov-zshang?” Henry stumbled over the pronunciation, shock still had his eyes as wide as saucers. He clutched at something to do other than stare. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a term of endearment.” Graham answered before Regina could and she looked at him with surprise. Graham huffed out a slow breath and decided –if he’d come this far… “Wolves have special names for their…wives.”

Henry and Regina’s expressions of wide eyed shock were startlingly similar. Graham wanted to laugh. Emma could tout her claim on Henry all she wanted, the boy was Regina’s son.

“You two are married?!” Henry looked between them and Regina’s jaw clenched so hard it clicked. She whipped her head around to stare at him when he laughed. “Awesome!”

“Awesome?” Regina frowned at him.

“So, when mom called you Haurool, that’s her name for you?” Henry ignored Regina’s question and turned to Graham instead.

Graham dipped his head in a nod and ignored the daggers Regina was glaring at him. He smirked. He did so enjoy complicating her life.

“How long have you two been married? Why don’t you have rings? Why isn’t it in the book?” Henry stalled his questioning when Regina lifted her fork to silence him.

“Let’s talk about the curse instead.” She tried to distract him but Henry was having none of it.

“No, this is important!” Henry insisted. “If you two are married, then you really love each other and True Love’s Kiss breaks all curses!”

“Uh…” Graham’s brows shot up and then he smirked. “Henry, do you really think I haven’t kissed your mum in the entire time we’ve been here?”

“Well, no. I figure you must have.” Henry wrinkled his nose at the thought of his mom kissing _anyone_. Gross. He brightened. “Maybe it has to be at a specific time and place.”

“No.” Regina viciously stabbed her fork into her pasta and finally choked some of it down. “My kissing Graham, or anyone, will not break this curse.”

“But…”

“I can’t break the curse. It’s part of it. If you cast a curse, especially one as powerful and heinous as the Dark Curse, you lose the right to break it.”

“But, if you have magic…”

“My magic is seriously truncated here. There is a limit to the powers I possess in this world.” She didn’t look pleased about it either.

“But you started the car this afternoon by screaming at it.” Henry frowned at her and Regina stilled, Graham perked up considerably.

“You what?”

“You saw that?” Regina spoke to Henry instead. He shrugged.

“I see lots of stuff.”

“Wait, you started a car with a vocal command?” Graham sat forward. “That’s high magic, you know that, why didn’t you say anything?”

“My afternoon has been somewhat full.” Regina clipped out. In all honesty, she had forgotten about it entirely.

“So, if you can use ‘high magic’ why can’t you break the curse?” Henry steered the conversation away from the argument he could see brewing.

“For starters ‘use magic’ is not the simple cure-all that people in this world think it is. There are laws, costs to be paid and sacrifices to be made. Magic takes a great deal of strength, discipline and no small amount of sheer steel nerve.” Regina ate more pasta rather than launch into a tirade about civilians and their preconceptions of magic.

“You lost your bottle for it, pet?” Graham prodded at her and Regina growled at him, teeth bared and everything.

Henry blinked at her and she forced the fierce expression from her face. Where the hell had that come from? A side effect of being married to a man that was raised by wolves? Gods, she needed to actually read that book.

“Suffice to say; it is a great deal more complex than either of you apparently realise and I will not waste time explaining the minutia of the laws of magic to you when we should perhaps be dealing with other problems.” Regina looked at Graham pointedly and he huffed out something like a chuff of growl.

“Very well, pet,” Graham mocked lightly, “suggestions are welcome.”

“Suggestions? From _moi_?” Regina laid a hand to her chest innocently. “I’m not the one who wants to break the damn thing. You two had the bright idea of tearing everything I’ve built down, figure out how to do it by yourselves.”

“And our friend who has so recently come to visit?” Graham folded his arms over his chest and Regina huffed out a sigh and another low growl.

She had fooled herself into forgetting. Indignation was a lot easier to deal with than the mess that was her general state of being when it came to Graham. Not to mention the horror of the Woodcutter.

“The guy that was after us today?” Henry bit his lip and fidgeted with his fork.

The two bites of food that Regina had choked down sat like a rock in her stomach and she mustered a smile for him.

“Yes. He’s from the Enchanted Forest.” Regina lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “After a fashion.”

“He came with the curse? Why’d he suddenly turn up now?”

“I have no idea.” Regina mulled it over and looked at her son. She had promised him the truth, her jaw rocked to the side and she voiced her suspicions. She picked at the corner of her placemat and couldn’t look at either of them. “I gave Graham his heart back. When someone like me does something like that…it’s kind of like you lighting a bonfire on Main Street.” She glanced at Henry and then hurriedly back to her plate. “I think that’s how it noticed me.”

“It?” Henry frowned and looked between both adults. “You said it was a man and now he’s an ‘it’?”

“He’s a monster.” Graham answered before Regina could. “And he’s not after your mother, he’s after me. Through her.”

“Why?” Henry frowned at Graham and his tone held more than a little accusation.

“Because we’re together.” Graham answered simply and jolted at the stark bolt of emotion that went through Regina at those words.

Surprise, fear (always afraid of him, or what she felt for him, it would seem) and something heated and deep that struck right to the very core of her.

Had it been from anyone else, Graham might have labelled the emotions as something along the lines of ‘warm fuzzies’. He smiled at her at the thought and she frowned at him. Confusion leaking from her from every pore.

“Grown-ups are weird.” Henry murmured mostly to himself.

How could the book be so wrong about how the Evil Queen and the Huntsman had hated one another? Well, as to how the Huntsman had hated the Queen. If it was wrong about that, because his mom and Graham _definitely_ didn’t hate each other. Not when they looked at each other like Prince Charming and Snow looked at each other in the book. Henry snapped his fingers, startling Regina and Graham out of another one of their silent conversations.

“I got it!” He looked between Regina and Graham practically bouncing in his seat. “True Love can break the curse but it doesn’t have to be your true love, right?”

“Which is fortunate.” Regina drawled and canted her chin onto her hand and her elbow on the table. “Go on.”

“Prince Charming and Snow White!” Henry thrust his hands out and his fork went flying the length of the table. Regina watched it go and arched a brow but merely sighed. This conversation was getting worse by the second.

“What about them?”

“We get them to fall in love all over again and kiss each other and –bam!” Regina jumped when Henry slammed his hand down on the table with a clap. “Curse is broken, everybody goes home.”

“It has a certain elegance.” Graham smirked at Henry’s enthusiasm.

“A couple of hiccups.” Regina held up her fingers one after the other. “Charming’s in a coma, Miss Blanchard has no idea who he is never mind loves him and not everyone would be going home.”

Graham looked at Henry and the boy frowned.

“What?”

“You weren’t born in the Enchanted Forest, sweetheart.” Regina’s eyes filled with pain at the very thought of it happening. “If we break the curse, you’ll be left here alone.”

“I…so everyone who was born in the Enchanted Forest will go back there?” Henry frowned.

“Everyone.” Regina nodded. “We cannot break the curse until we can be sure that either I will stay here with you or you will come with me. I will never abandon you.” Henry frowned and thought hard about that one. He looked up with a smile.

“You’ll figure it out.”

Regina blinked at him.

“In the meantime, there’s got to be a way to wake up Prince Charming.”

Regina opened her mouth and then –after a moment of silence- clipped it shut again. She looked up at Graham and shrugged.

“We could try and break the curse on Snow like it was broken on me?”

“That’s a good idea.” Henry nodded vigorously.

“Except, we’re fresh out of wolf brothers to guide her.”

“So my idea did have merit. Animals can see the curse in a way we can’t. It could help her find her way back to the truth.” Graham sat forward, his fingers laced together and his elbows on the table.

Regina’s mouth twisted and she scowled at the very thought of giving Snow anything, let alone the truth…but she had to break the curse to get her magic back. She needed her magic to protect Henry. To defeat the Woodcutter.

“Maybe not all animals.” Regina sat forward too, leaning in towards Graham and looking right into his eyes. A pose they had adopted several times in the past when involved in one nefarious plot or the other. “Night Guide was magical. Not quite a wolf in the same way that you aren’t quite a man. He was intelligent enough to see the curse for what it was…if he was even really here. Seeing him might simply have been you interpreting the curse in a way your mind could accept.”

Graham mulled that over. When it came to magic, she would always know more than he did, but seeing Night Guide had seemed so real…

“Night Guide was your wolf?” Henry felt like he was intruding again when both adults tore themselves away from one another to answer him.

“Aye, my brother. I saw him when the curse was breaking for me.”

“Well, then we should get Miss Blanchard a bird. She likes birds. One of them has gotta be able to wake her up.”

“Birds aren’t my thing.” Regina’s voice was flat and she shook her head. “Besides, I don’t think that will work. I don’t think the curse can be cracked in the same way twice.”

“Why?” Graham looked more curious than accusatory so she gave him an honest answer.

“I don’t know. I just…feel it.” Regina reached out and idly smoothed out a wrinkle on his shirt sleeve. She jerked her hand back when he flinched at the tug on his new tattoos. “We should get some cream for those.”

“Later, you’re not getting out of this that easily.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes looking back to Henry.

“I think the curse will break differently for everyone. I also think that no one else’s senses are keen enough to pick up on the subtle hints that Graham could when it came to the curse. No one other than Granny or Ruby at least.”

“Why don’t we try and wake them up then?” Henry frowned, trying to think of a way out of it.

“What good would that do?” Regina arched a brow at him. “Snow White in a fit of pique, I can handle. Two werewolves on the warpath? I’d be kibble within five minutes.”

“Maybe not then.” Henry hurriedly agreed. He nodded to himself firmly. “I still think that waking up Snow White and getting her to kiss Prince Charming will break the curse.”

“But not take you with us.” Regina reminded him and Henry looked down at his dinner plate again, his shoulders hunched.

“Maybe that’s the way it has to be.” His voice was small, he fiercely hoped it wasn’t.

“Never.” Regina shut that down. Hard. “You’re _my_ son. I’m not giving you up even if I have to dig a tunnel to the Enchanted Forest with my bare hands in order to take you with me.”

Henry smiled, glad to hear it, and huffed out a slow breath.

“This is tough.”

“They’re called curses for a reason.” Graham murmured and pushed his plate away. He had noticed that Regina had barely eaten anything and made a mental note to try and feed her again later. “I think Henry’s right though. Snow White was the real target of this curse, it seems only fitting that she be the one to break it.”

Regina tunnelled her fingers through her hair and thought it over.

If she swept aside her personal feelings –her vendetta against Snow- and subsumed that rage with the desire to protect Henry, if she did that, she could put her mind to breaking the curse.

_IF_ she could do that.

Regina looked over at Henry and her heart clenched at the thought of him being left behind. Of him being caught in the Woodcutter’s path. Of her being killed and leaving him alone. She never wanted him to feel abandoned. Never.

“I could try…something.” She glanced at Graham. “You’re not going to like it.”

Graham arched a brow.

“Charming is unconscious and he is cursed but he is not in a sleeping curse, like the one I put on Snow with the apple.” Regina bit her lip for a moment and then forced herself to go on. “So, I could –in theory- fool an unconscious Charming into waking up and, perhaps, be free of the memory blocks that everyone else suffers from.”

Graham’s brow lowered into a frown.

“And how –pray tell- might we be fooling Charming into waking up?”

“I would…have to…kiss him.” Regina spoke carefully, watching Graham’s expression for signs of danger.

“No.” Graham didn’t even think before the word was out of his mouth.

He shook his head even as he realised it wasn’t a rational response in the slightest. They needed Charming woken up. They needed to break the curse in order to get back to the Enchanted Forest and defeat the Woodcutter but the very thought of Regina even touching another man made him feel like there was a wolf in his gut trying to chew its way out.

“It would just be once.” Regina sucked in a deep breath when her eyes met his and all she could see was a wolf looking back.

“ _No_.” Graham gritted out from behind clenched teeth.

“It’s a simple enough spell, to fool an unconscious mind. I’d need something of Snow’s, a lipstick, a couple of candles, a pomegranate and…”

“No.”

“And a half of cider.”

“Cider?” Henry frowned.

“Dutch courage.” Regina folded her arms on the table and turned back to Graham. If she was going to kiss Charming, she sure as hell wasn’t doing it sober. “Unclench for five minutes and agree. It’s the only way.”

“You don’t know that.” Graham growled. “You _suspect_ it may work.”

“Then what’s the harm in trying? If we’re wrong, we’ve lost nothing, if I’m right then we have a weak point in the curse. Charming has never been awake in this world, the curse never had to forge memories for him. He will be easier to get through to and we won’t have to shatter an entire life to do so. I’m sure you remember how painful it was to reintegrate.”

Graham’s jaw clenched. He remembered fine well how scattered he’d been. How it had led him to sticking a knife in Regina’s chest. He’d been a mess but he’d had to rise to the occasion.

Dealing with the fallout of Regina giving him his heart back, suddenly finding himself in a situation he didn’t want with Emma…which was nothing compared to the possible situation that Regina might be getting herself into now and how much he didn’t want that.

“No.”

“Why not?!” Henry was less patient than his mother. “It’s one kiss! It won’t even be real True Love, it will be pretend. Mom will be borrowing it from Miss Blanchard, right mom?”

“Essentially.”

“And if he wakes up and he has his memories and he sees you standing over him, injured, defenceless, what do you think he’s going to do?”

Regina’s mouth twisted. They were both thinking that Charming would probably do the same thing that Graham had done only Charming didn’t have an investment in stopping himself.

“This is why I need you to agree and be there.” She decided not to argue the ‘defenceless’ comment. If he felt he had to be there to protect her, then he was more likely to go along with it. Maybe. “Who better to protect me than my husband?” She smiled sweetly and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“You will be kissing another man.”

Regina let out a sigh.

“A man who is not me.”

“For which I am grateful.” Regina moved to lace her fingers together and made a sound of annoyance when her cast got in the way. “One Charming in any world is more than enough.”

“You know this and you still expect me to be okay with it?”

“I expect you to want to do what it takes to break this curse.” Regina looked him dead in the eye and he growled.

“This was your idea.” She reminded him.

“None of this was my idea.” He waved at the dinner table. “I thought we’d take care of this ourselves. Not drag little boys into it.”

“Prince Charming’s a grown up.” Henry frowned.

“Prince Charming is a moron.” Graham snapped.

Which was not really his opinion of the man. He had helped him escape Regina, a long time ago. Something she still did not know and he was in no hurry to enlighten her about but there was a _limit_. Prince Charming, husband to Snow White, could be a potential ally. Prince Charming, awakened from the Curse by Regina’s lips on his…Graham fought down another growl.

This was ridiculous.

He tunnelled a finger through his hair and heaved out a sigh.

He looked up at Henry –the boy holding his breath and waiting- then over at Regina. She watched him just as intently though she still breathed with a regular rhythm.

“You’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?” He spoke quietly after a long moment.

“I think it is our best chance. Charming will be the easier of the two to break out of the curse…I think this way is the most likely to work.” Regina tilted her head to the side and shrugged a shoulder, she looked between Henry and Graham. “Though you should know that all of this is relative. The chances of us succeeding are…slim.”

“How slim?” Henry began to frown again.

“Positively anorexic.” Regina drawled and then looked at the ceiling for a long moment when both Henry and Graham just looked at her. “About…one in four thousand three hundred and twenty nine.”

Henry’s brows shot up.

“Why the heck don’t you help me with my math homework?!”

Regina gusted a surprised laugh that almost didn’t hurt and even Graham managed a smile.

“Because it is important that you know that you can rely on yourself.” Regina smiled at him and then sobered when he did.

“That’s a pretty slim chance.”

“I’ve had worse.” Regina lifted her shoulder in a shrug and Graham looked sharply at her.

“Atlantis.” She reminded him.

“Fair enough.” He nodded and huffed out a sigh. “When do we get this over with then?”

“I will need something of Miss Blanchard’s. I suppose I can entrust that to you, since you seem to have inherited Miss Swan’s penchant for kleptomania.” Henry blinked at her.

“You’re a pickpocket.” Graham said flatly and Henry ducked his chin and flushed a little.

“I did what I thought I had to do.”

“Just as well, I suppose.” Graham allowed after a long moment and Regina snorted.

“Oh, absolutely.” She propped her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table. At his glare she went back to his original question. “I will also have to take care of the…contingencies I have in place for Charming waking up.”

“Did you hire an assassin?!” Henry gasped.

“No!” Regina scowled, ignoring that she already had one on contract sitting right next to her. “I had a subroutine written into the curse so that –if he ever woke up- he’d have someone come to claim him that wasn’t Snow. I’ll need to…distract her.”

“Distract who?”

“Princess Abigail. She’s Kathryn…something, in this world. A lawyer. She was in love with someone called…” Regina looked up at the ceiling and shook her head when the name wouldn’t come to her. “I know him when I see him.”

“You know him when you see him?” Graham drawled, arms folded over his chest.

“Yes, he works at Henry’s school. He’s the soccer coach.”

“Oh, then that’s easy.” Henry perked up. “We just need to get them together. True Love will take care of the rest.”

Regina resisted the very real urge to drown herself in her pasta just to escape those words. She hated them. It was all made even worse by the fact that it probably was going to work out that way.

“And how are we to bring them together?” Graham looked to Henry.

“Henry’s going to join the soccer team.” Regina nodded to him.

“I’m what?” Henry’s eyes widened.

“The exercise will do you good.” Regina smirked at him and turned back to Graham. “Then I call Kathryn up with some legal problem, have a meeting set up, call and rearrange so that she has to come with me to pick Henry up from practice and introduce them to one another.” Regina sipped from her water, wishing for something stronger. “All going well, some part of them will recognise the other for what they are and –when we do wake up Charming- Kathryn will be suitably distracted not to leap headlong back into marriage with her ‘husband’.”

“You romantic, you.” Graham smirked at her, mocking lightly.

“You have to know how something is successfully put together to break it irreparably.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. “Something that applies to happy endings as much as it does toasters.”

“One time, mom!” Henry threw up his hands. “One time!”

“It’s never been the same since.” Regina reminded him. “The toast hits the ceiling if you don’t catch it first.”

“You gotta admit that’s pretty impressive.” Henry defended himself. Graham laughed and sobered when Regina spoke next. “Don’t think I don’t know that you helped him put it back together.” Regina sipped from her water again and considered another mouthful of pasta. She didn’t feel completely sick to her stomach, but that just meant the pain would return soon.

“You can’t prove anything.” Graham told her primly and she smirked glancing back at Henry, she saw the boy looking between herself and Graham, something like calculation in his eyes.

“Mom…?”

Regina knew that tone, she knew he was about to ask something she didn’t want to answer, but the words were out of his mouth before she could distract him with something else.

“Why did you adopt me instead of having a kid with Graham?”

All the air rushed out of Regina’s lungs and her eyebrows made a dash for her hairline. She blinked at him for several long moments. Of all the questions she had thought he might ask, that hadn’t been one of them. Hell, it hadn’t even hit the top fifty.

She had thought he would ask about what had tipped her over the edge, why she had gone so mad and bad, why she hated Snow. ANY of those.

She should have known he would pick the one thing she least wanted to talk about.

Regina could feel Graham’s gaze on the side of her head and she cleared her throat, stalling for time, and refused to look at him.

“We couldn’t.” She spoke at length. “The curse that freezes us all at the same age stops that kind of thing from happening.” She felt Graham shift, he hadn’t thought of that.

“Oh,” Henry frowned, turning that over and over in his head, “but you wanted to?”

Regina chose her words carefully, intensely aware of Graham’s close scrutiny.

“I wanted a child very much.”

“With Graham?” Henry kept pushing.

“Your mum didn’t think I was father material at the time.” Graham attempted a rescue but Regina shook her head.

“On the contrary, I think you’d make an excellent father. You’re fierce, you’d have never let me hurt Henry the way I did.” Regina was staring at the table, aware of both Henry and Graham’s attentions but unable to look them in the eye. She swallowed hard and frowned, her next words hoarse. “I just never believed I would ever have children with anyone other than…Daniel.”

“Who’s Daniel?” Henry frowned and Regina shook her head sharply, suddenly having hit the wall at high speed.

“I can’t.” She shoved herself to her feet and shook her head, she knew her hands were shaking but she couldn’t stop them. “I…I’m going to bed.”

She all but ran from the room.

“Mom!” Henry was halfway out of his chair before Graham’s hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him back down into his seat. “But…!”

“Leave her, lad.” Graham pressed Henry more insistently into the chair until Henry stopped trying to rise. “It’s cost her so much to tell you even that. Best not to prod at open wounds, eh?”

Henry bit his lip and frowned, twisting to look after Regina but turned back to Graham.

“Who’s Daniel?”

“He’s your mum’s true love. He died. A long time ago.” Graham tried to decide how much he should tell the boy and huffed out a slow sigh when he realised Henry would just go to Regina about it if he didn’t spill and she was skating close enough to the edge as it was.

The hurt that had raced through her at the thought of Daniel had been staggering. Graham was glad he had been sitting down when he felt it. He might well have buckled to the floor had he been standing. He wished desperately that he could take it from her when he suddenly had a name to attribute to the pain that lashed her every single day.

“It was Snow’s fault. That’s why your mum hates her. Why she cast the curse, why she’s in so much pain all the time.”

“But she has you now,” Henry frowned, “and me. Are we not enough?”

“Yes and no.” Graham sat forward and tried to explain.

He had known Regina for over thirty five years, longer than most husbands and wives had been married, and he was still learning new things about her every single day. He might have known her for all that time but he was only just now coming to understand a small part of her due to the connection of their hearts.

“She loves us, both of us, with everything she has, but she still loves Daniel too.” Graham took a moment to sort his words again. “That feels like a betrayal to her. Every time she gets close to being happy with us, she’s reminded of how Daniel was stolen from her. Of how she lost him and she thinks that it’s awful of her to be happy without him. Considering how awful your mum already thinks she is, to have that added on top of it…it can make her desperately sad.”

Henry stared at the polished woodwork of the table for a long moment and frowned. It gradually hardened into a truly fierce expression that he must have learned from Regina.

“If Daniel truly loved her he’d want her to be happy. Even if it was without him.”

“I know,” Graham nodded, “but your mum doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know very much about love at all other than that she feels it so fiercely it all but burns her. She didn’t have anyone to teach her about it until Daniel came to her and he was killed before he could do much more than tell her that he loved her.”

“Who killed him?” Henry demanded suddenly, his fierce expression back with a vengeance.

“Her mother.” Graham didn’t see the point in hiding it. The more Henry knew about Regina, the less likely he was to hurt her again.

Gods, knew that Graham never wanted to hurt her again. It was difficult to want to hurt anyone, no matter what they had done to you, when you felt the pain that had driven them mad just as fiercely as they did.

“What?!” Henry nearly yelled. “How could she do that?!”

“Because she was a heartless monster. She’s the reason your mum is so broken. Her and Snow and Rumplestiltskin.”

Henry opened his mouth to say something but he realised he had no words for the rage he felt on behalf of his mother.

How could they? How could they hurt her like that? How could her own mother do that to her? That wasn’t what family was supposed to DO! Henry felt the shame pour through him when he realised he’d been just as cruel when he had ripped himself away from her.

He might not have died, but he had left her of his own choice. He’d been a brat and said hateful things and he’d thrown everything she’d ever given him back in her face and maybe –quite possibly- that had hurt her more than anything that had come before.

Henry gulped suddenly and looked up at Graham with eyes that were wide and wet, seeing understanding come from the other man.

“Hey,” Graham took Henry by the back of the neck and pulled him a little closer, he did not tug him into a hug, neither of them was ready for that, but that touch grounded him, “all you have to do is try your best to make it up to her. She’s hurting. Every single day she hurts, but we don’t have to make it worse for her. Just being here makes her feel better.”

“How,” Henry sniffed and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, “how do you know that for sure?”

Graham smirked and shrugged a shoulder.

“I know her. She might have ripped my heart out of my chest but she gave me hers when she gave it back.” He looked Henry right in the eye. “I know her better than anyone. Trust me when I tell you that she’s steadied just by you being here. Do you think she’d EVER have offered to wake up Prince Charming if you hadn’t been here to help?”

“No.” Henry looked back down at the table and then dragged his eyes back up to meet Graham’s. “Are you super mad about that?”

Graham dropped his hand from around Henry’s nape and folded his arms on the table. He mulled it over and finally shrugged.

“I’ll get over it.”

“I’m sorry it has to be like this.” Henry didn’t narrow down what ‘it’ was and Graham nodded. He didn’t have to.

“Me too.” Graham waited until Henry looked him in the eye and then smiled. “But it won’t always be this way.”

“And what if the change is worse?” Graham shrugged a shoulder.

“Then we protect her.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to do that. She’s so…fierce.” Henry rubbed at his arm and looked down at the table. “I’m not like that. I’m not…her son.”

Henry jumped when Graham burst out laughing and Henry blinked at him.

“What?!”

Graham mustered himself under control and managed to look Henry in the eye after a long moment. He shook his head.

“Boy, you’re so like her, it’s undeniable. You couldn’t be less like her if you tried.” He hurried to explain when Henry looked like he didn’t know how to take that. “I’m not saying that you’re Evil, but then again neither really is Regina. I’m saying that you have her sheer stubborn determination. You refuse to believe that the odds are stacked impossibly against you. You love with everything that you have in you and you’d go to the ends of the earth and back again to prove it. You didn’t get that from Emma. If she’d had it in her, she’d never have given you up.”

Henry, slowly, smiled.

“You really think so?”

“Ask anyone.” Graham shrugged.

Henry mulled that over and nodded.

Maybe he would.

 

_**The Graveyard…** _

 

Emma did not glance surreptitiously about herself as she walked up the steps to the Mills Mausoleum.

Part of successful trespassing was looking like you had every right to be there. So Emma strode with purpose across the springy turf of the graveyard and up the steps to stand by the door. She rummaged a moment in her pockets and made a small sound of triumph when she found her picks. Not that she –cough- carried them around for anything other than sentimental value.

Dropping to one knee, Emma put her mind to the task of breaking and entering. It had been a while but it was kind of like riding a bike.

She listened to one tumbler after the other roll over and smirked when the chunky lock clunked over.

Straightening, Emma gripped the door handle and froze.

Her free hand lifted, sliding back towards the small of her back but she stopped when she remembered that she had left Graham’s gun in a drawer in the manor.

There was someone behind her.

Fuck it.

Emma whirled, whipping out the only weapon she had, and flicking the switch. The beam of light from the flashlight shone on nothing save the nearest grave marker.

Emma leaned back against the door, her chest heaving with every breath with no idea as to why, and scanned back and forth with the flashlight. All she saw was green grass and silent stone.

She had been certain that there had been someone there.

Emma shook herself. That conversation with Graham had her spooked, that was all. She shrugged off the pounding of her heart and turned back to the door of the tomb.

It swung open with a well oiled silence and she slipped inside without hesitation. The pool of light from her flashlight bounced around over the floors and walls as she searched for what could be in here that would bring both Regina and Graham here when they should have been out looking for a potential killer.

She dropped to her heels when she saw the distinctive footprints of a pair of heavy duty boots and a set of killer heels. Trust Regina to wear five inch heels whilst recovering from surgery.

Emma tracked them from the doorway of the tomb to the coffin and back again. She frowned. They didn’t seem to go anywhere. Just to the coffin and back again.

There were no fresh flowers. Nothing to indicate that Regina had come here to pay respects to her dead father but…why else would she be here?

Emma huffed out a breath.

What the hell was she doing? Just because Regina had been here with Graham didn’t mean they had stayed there for the entirety of the time they’d been gone from the manor.

Living in this crazy little town was beginning to get to her. Connection did not equal causality. She knew that.

Emma turned to go and stalled.

Turning back, Emma aimed her flashlight at the coffin.

No. Surely not. Emma shook her head. Not even Regina would use her father’s coffin as some kind of macabre storage space…would she?

Emma turned back to the coffin and gripped the flashlight in her teeth. She set her hands to the seam between the lid and the body of the coffin and ran them the length and breadth of it, her fingers searching for a grip to prise it up and off. Gripping it, Emma set her entire weight against the coffin and heaved. She grunted with the effort and sagged after a long straining moment.

She was about to give up, about to go back to her car and drive back to the station where she was supposed to be, but then –with a low grinding sound- the lid began to shift.

Galvanised by her partial success, Emma set her feet and shoved again. An inch at a time, muscles burning and a sweat slicking her skin, Emma hefted the lid a whole six inches across the coffin. She looked down, unable to make out anything inside the coffin in the dark and almost afraid to look in now that she had succeeded in opening it.

Emma shook herself again. This was ridiculous. At the worst, it was going to be an embalmed body in there. Which offered no threat to her whatsoever.

Moving quickly, before she could think better of it, Emma lifted the flashlight and shone it inside.

Nothing.

Emma blinked, frowning and ducked her head, angling the flashlight to look up and down the coffin. Nothing at all. No secondary wooden coffin –as there sometimes was with tombs like these- nor upholstery to cushion the body if it lay inside. Most importantly; no body. The coffin was empty.

Nothing more than a very large and expensive marble box.

Emma rocked back a step and frowned.

What the hell did that mean? Did Regina know? Did she know that she visited an empty grave every week? Had she had an empty coffin set up in memorial? Was her father even dead?

Emma snorted at herself. That kind of nonsense was only found on daytime soap operas and that was exactly where such idiotic plots deserved to be.

Regina’s father was dead. Emma believed that.

Rounding the coffin, Emma put her back into sliding the lid back in place and sagged when the effort cost her more than she had expected. Damn, it was solid marble and it was _heavy_.

Emma dusted off her hands and once more scanned the interior of the tomb. She shook her head. There was nothing here.

They must have come to pay respects –it was Wednesday after all- and then gone off on their little adventure elsewhere.

Shaking her head at her own idiocy, Emma slipped out of the mausoleum again and closed the doors behind her. She had to leave it unlocked, she didn’t have that much skill with locks as to lock it again, and she started across the graveyard back towards her car.

She shivered at the cold of the fully fallen night. Hunching her shoulders, she stuffed her flashlight and her hands into the pockets of her red jacket. She shivered again and told herself it was just the wind and drying sweat that was making her skin crawl.

She did not notice the gigantic footprints pressing into the grass behind her.

They followed her all the way to the Sheriff’s station and then they waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo!
> 
> And that's it so far. All of this was available on ffnet but -from now on- only here will the story be updated. 
> 
> It's exhausting doing all this and my eyes have gone skelly. 
> 
> As for Emma desecrating a tomb, i know it's horrid, but I don't think it's out of character for her. Both she and her parents -as well as Henry- have as much moral flexibility when it comes to the ends justifying the means as Regina does. 
> 
> And, hell, Regina seems to be the only one that realised that what she's doing is wrong. 
> 
> Anyways, keep your eyes peeled for updates here. The next chapter is mostly written but i think i'll be going back and adding in a few scenes here and there to bolster the flow. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, guys from ffnet, and hola to any new readers that have joined my crazy train of Hunting Queen.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Sorry for being so absent recently. I've had something -to be honest- absolutely harrowing happen to me recently. It's still throwing me off, I'm still not back to 100%, but I have to start somewhere and I figured, since you guys are always great to me, that it might as well be here.
> 
> This chapter was really hard to write for me but then again, everything is hard to do right now. I haven't wanted to write or draw or even be remotely creative in any way because everything I'm feeling...well, i didn't want to make myself feel someone else's pain too...if that makes any sense?
> 
> Anyway, here we are with the next chapter. Hopefully I'll be back to proper form soon enough. For me as much as you :)
> 
> The next chapter will be less horrible than this one. Promise.

**Chapter 13 – Enough**

 

Graham stalled outside the bedroom door and huffed out a deep breath.

She was upset, of course she was, he could feel it clean through the door and on the other side. That great sucking pool of grief that tormented her every single day seemed to have frothed and welled, taking her over entirely. She was drowning in it.

It was that which gave him the courage to push open the door and slip into the bedroom. She needed him. Really needed him. In a way that she hadn’t before. She didn’t even know. It had never occurred to her to ask for help. From him or from anyone. She’d fallen out of the habit long ago.

Screamed and begged and cried for a help that had never come.

Well, not anymore. She wasn’t alone anymore and if she needed help then he was going to give it. He was going to be there for her. She’d never be alone again.

Graham scanned the bedroom and found it empty. Frowning, he made for the bathroom and knocked gently on the door.

When no reply answered him, he cautiously pushed it open.

Regina was sitting in the bath. Curled into a ball, facing away from him. Her shoulders hunched in grieving tension. She held herself painfully still. Her arms hugged tightly about herself. She was trying to hold it all in. The storm inside her.

It ripped and tore and roared at her and she knew that no one else could handle it. She knew that it would kill anyone less so she held it in. She held it in and prayed that it never got out. She held it in until she couldn’t anymore and –when it got out- she became Her again. She became the Queen.

Well, no more. Graham was there now and she didn’t have to let him help anymore, he could do it of his own volition.

“Go away.” Her voice barely trembled but it was thick with emotion.

He ignored her.

“Traditionally, one puts water in the bath.” Graham approached the bath and dropped down onto his heels beside the deep bellied porcelain tub. He folded his arms over the lip of the tub and rested his chin on his arms. There was indeed no water in the bath and she was still fully clothed.

“Can’t soak my stitches.”

“Ah.” Graham nodded even when she still didn’t turn to look at him. “Is it helping?”

“Nothing helps.”

“I can.”

“Why?”

Graham tilted his head.

“Why not?”

“I’m your monster. Your tormentor. What do you care how I feel?”

“Because you’re not only her, pet. Not anymore. She’s a part of you, the survivor, but she’s not all of you.”

“Giving me excuses won’t change what I did. It won’t change what happened.” Regina hugged herself tighter. “I can’t take back what I did. None of it.”

“Just as I can’t take away what was done to you, pet.” Graham reached out slowly and rested his hand on her shoulder. She shivered violently but didn’t try to pull away. “That doesn’t mean that I can’t try to help you anyway.”

“You still haven’t said _why?_ ”

“Because somebody should.” Graham rubbed at her back. “Because…I know what you grew up with. I know what your mother did to you and…I want you to know that it shouldn’t have been like that.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Regina stiffened and shrugged his hand away. She didn’t fight him when he rested it over her spine again, rubbing small circles. “You think I haven’t…read the reports in this world? Seen the data? Children that are…hurt, that are treated like…like I was, they’re broken. They go on to do the same thing. Don’t they? They go on to break their own children. It’s a cycle. It never stops.”

“That’s bollocks, pet, and you know it.”

“Do I?” Her voice was so small, so shattered. “What if…what if I end up like her? What if I hurt Henry because of what she did to me? I couldn’t bear it if…”

“Hey, hush, hush now.” Graham stood and reached into the bath, he scooped her up out of it as easily as if she was a kitten. He cradled her against his chest and stepped into the bath, sitting down and cuddling her close. “Never happen.”

“I don’t want to be like her.”

“I know.”

“I don’t…I know I have to be a monster, to defeat the Woodcutter, I know that and I accept that but I don’t want to be like her.”

“I won’t let you.” Graham held her tighter when she began to shake. To tremble violently. “I’m not your father. I’m not weak like he was. You said yourself, I’d never let you hurt Henry. I swore to you on my heart that I’d protect him as if he were my own, did you think I was lying?”

“No. You can’t lie to me either.” Regina leaned into him when he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“So why would I let you hurt Henry? Hmm?”

He didn’t tell her that he knew she could never do it. That she would never hurt Henry as her mother had her. She wasn’t that broken, not yet, but she was still too broken to believe him. Too broken to think of herself as anything other than a monster. The monster that she had been made into.

“I hurt you. I did it to you. I made you into a cold blooded killer for no other reason than I wanted someone else to hurt as much as I did.” She was crying.

Not that he could tell from her voice. She cried silently, years of practice he supposed, but he could smell the salt of her tears. Feel them soaking into his shirt.

“I was always a killer, pet. Always. From the time I was a cub –a boy- I’m not like Henry. I’m not inherently kind or gentle. I was always a wolf. Never a little boy.” Graham rocked her gently, speaking into her hair. “You couldn’t make me evil. Wolves can’t be evil. They just are. All you did was train me. If anything you tempered me. Think on it. How many times did you stop me from killing?”

Regina was silent a long moment. Knowing her, she was actually trying to tally it up.

“Can we agree that it was often?” He smirked at the strange workings of her mind.

“At least weekly.” She shivered out a slow breath.

“Think about how I was when I first came to you. Think about how ready I was to rip someone’s throat out with the least provocation. I was a machine. I’d hunt and kill and move on without a moment’s hesitation. I was half man, half animal and all monster. You cleaned me up, pet. You gave me a direction. You stopped me from hurting everyone in my path. You took whatever I could dish out. You kept me in check.”

“So you killed fifty people instead of five hundred. Their blood is still on my hands. You might say you were on my leash but that still means that I made us both monsters.”

“We’re not monsters, pet. We’re just different. We weren’t raised the same way everyone else was. Being normal is easy for them, it’s all they know. It’s much harder for us and scarier. The thought of being trapped in the same four walls, of having to forever hide our teeth, sheathe our claws, it’s terrifying. The thought that we’ll just crack one day. That the wild bit inside us will burst out and be completely out of our control. That it will kill and destroy and there won’t be anything that the civilised part of us can do. That’s why we need one another. It’s too much to do ourselves. It’s too much for anyone to do alone.”

“I’ve never been able to rely on someone like that. Never.”

“You can now.”

“Until when? Until the curse breaks? Until you leave me too?” Regina buried her face into his chest. “Please don’t lie to me. I might not deserve the truth but…please?”

“I will never lie to you about this. I will never leave you. Never.”

“You can still be taken from me.” Regina shuddered at the very thought.

She wanted to be callus, she wanted to hide behind the mask of the Evil Queen but she was _so_ out of practice. She’d been the Mayor, Regina, for too long. She had loved him too long. She couldn’t hide it anymore. Not even from herself.

“You spent years making me unkillable, pet.”

“There’s still the Woodcutter.”

“Aye, there is.”

“He could kill us both.”

“He will have to go through me to get to you and I’m not so easily dispatched as well you know.” Graham rubbed her back, trying to warm her. She was shivering even though she no longer touched the cold porcelain of the bath.

Then again, he supposed the subject matter was more than chilling enough.

“I can’t lose anyone else. I just can’t.”

“You won’t have to. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” Graham pressed another kiss to her forehead and she slowly inched her arm around his neck. Like she was hoping he wouldn’t notice. Some hope.

“Where’s Henry?”

“In bed. I tucked him in.”

“Is he alright?”

“He’s worried about you.” He cuddled her closer to him still. She was wrapped around him as tightly as he was her. “He’s okay though.”

“He’s not supposed to worry about me. I’m supposed to be strong.”

“He loves you and he knows you’ve been through a lot.” Graham was silent a beat more. “Now he knows how much you’ve lived through, he knows exactly how strong you are. He worries for you because he cares, not because he thinks you’re weak.”

“I never wanted him to know. How…ugly I am inside. I never wanted him to see.”

“You’re not ugly, pet. Not a single part of you. Not one fibre of you. You can be cruel and vicious and terrifying, of course you can, but that doesn’t make you ugly, it makes you a survivor. You and I have lived ugly things, but we’re not just that. We’re more. You are more.”

“I’m so tired.”

“I know. That’s what happens when you try to do everything yourself. When you’re alone.”

“I’ll always be alone.”

“No. Not anymore. Not ever again.” Graham squeezed her tighter. “I told you, you’re stuck with me.”

She coughed something like a laugh and he smiled.

They sat curled together like that for long and pounding moments. Graham tried to wrap himself around her so that he could cushion her from the entire world. He knew it was futile but he also knew it wasn’t in him not to try.

He remembered what he had been like before she’d tamed him. He remembered the fire in his blood and the madness in his head. How being torn about who and what he was had tormented him every moment of every day. He remembered how pretending to be something that he wasn’t had made him want to tear his hair out and scream until he couldn’t scream anymore.

He remembered how she’d taken that choice away from him and finally set him free.

Well, he supposed it was his turn now.

 

_**The Enchanted Forest, Then…** _

 

_Take him to my bedchamber_.

Those words pounded in the Haurool’s head. Echoing back and forth, bouncing against his skull, ricocheting, tearing through his thoughts.

No.

No. He would not be contained. He was a wolf! He could not be caged. Not by her. Not by her henchmen. Not by anyone.

Haurool looked down at his feet dragging over the marble floor, his arms caught by the two knights hauling him along the corridor. His chest felt empty and aching, his heart stolen. He could feel the power, the connection trailing away from him. Away from him and straight to her.

No.

_No._

Haurool _roared_. He lifted both legs off the floor, swinging them forward and planting his heels against the unforgiving marble floor. He bucked, using his entire body, and wrenched his arms from the knights’ hold.

They staggered back and it was all the chance he needed.

Haurool pounced on the first without a second’s hesitation, his hands manacling around the blackface’s head and twisting violently. His skull snapped around, the tendons in his neck popping with tension and the knockout reflex kicked in. the knight went boneless, stunned, and toppled to the floor. Unconscious before he even hit the flagstones. The second knight was coming for Haurool’s back but he wasn’t quick enough.

He’d barely begun to unsheathe his sword before Haurool’s booted foot lashed out and caught him in the sternum. Both feet kicked up off the floor and the knight flew backwards. His head clattered off the wall, battering against the stone and the inside of his helmet both and he too fell insensate to the ground.

Haurool was already running back the way they had come.

He felt the wolf rising in him. The claws of it tearing inside his skin, desperate to get out, its teeth bearing alongside his own. He felt his eyes burn and his senses stretch taut. His boots pounded against the floor, he sprinted around the corner to her vault, intent only on getting his heart back and tearing apart whoever got in his way.

The golden doors opened before he reached them and she swept out into the corridor with a rustling drag of her skirts.

She saw him coming, arched a brow and lifted her hand.

Haurool didn’t even have time to widen his burning eyes before her command cut into him like a red hot sword and took up his entire world.

“Stop.”

Haurool couldn’t even scream with the pain and terror that assaulted him when his legs buckled from beneath him like a puppet with cut strings. His ankle twisted beneath him when he went down, his knee wrenched painfully and his skull rapped sharply against the floor when he collapsed onto his back. He lay there, winded, trying desperately to breathe. His lungs refused to work properly.

He only blearily saw her when she stood over him. Was only dimly aware of her skirts sweeping against his face she was so close.

If he could only move. If he could only get hold of her he could murder in half a moment. Before she got another word out. Before she took control of him again. She’d die voiceless. Her screams would have to be silent.

The Queen sank down onto her heels and reached down, brushing his hair back from his sweat slicked brow.

“You escaped two of the Blackfaces. Impressive. I do hope you didn’t kill them. They are rather time consuming to train.”

Haurool could only choke a worthless sound.

She continued to stroke his hair back from his face. His heart cradled in her other hand, glowing softly, throbbing in time with the pounding in his head.

“I can see that you are still a little too excited to be let off the leash.” She rose to her feet and sighed. “Good help is _so_ hard to find.”

The Queen looked down at him, considering for a long moment and then started along the corridor.

“Come along then.”

Haurool gasped, turning torturously onto his hands and knees and began to crawl along the corridor. He nearly choked on his rage, red filling his vision. How _dare_ she? How dare she make him grovel and scrape on his hands and knees?

“What are you doing?”

Haurool lifted his head, lips peeled back over his teeth and he snarled at her.

“Can you not walk?”

It took a moment for Haurool to hammer the growl in his voice into words that she might understand.

“I can.”

“Do you want to crawl on the floor like a dog?” She tilted her head, seemingly genuinely interested in his answer.

“Never.” He spat at her.

“Well, no one is demanding that you do so other than yourself. You may walk if you wish it.”

Haurool frowned, some of the rage bleeding from him as confusion rose to take its place.

Slowly, as if expecting a trick, he rose to his feet.

She smirked.

“There. Isn’t that better?”

Haurool growled at her.

“We’re going to have to work on your vocabulary.” She beckoned him to follow her and he warily prowled after her when she turned away and stalked along the corridor.

He was hesitant to follow her, he considered multiple times just taking to his heels, but he knew he wouldn’t get far. Not with his heart nestled so securely in her palm.

She passed the unconscious knights, already being helped up to their feet by their brethren and led away. She glanced at them and her smirk was an expression he couldn’t fathom. Sweeping beyond them, she flicked her fingers at the huge double doors that led who knew where and Haurool only ground to a halt when he found himself in what had to be her bedchamber.

He felt fear and anger tear at him again when he realised he’d walked willingly into her trap and his snarl rumbled through the room.

“So irritable.” She spoke mildly, pouring wine into a goblet. He was more than a little surprised when she held it out to him.

He looked at the goblet and then back to her.

She smirked. Lifting it to her lips, she sipped of the wine and then held it out to him again.

“Not poisoned. Perfectly safe.”

He continued to stare at her.

“No? There is food. You must be hungry. The shock of having your heart removed is better once you eat something.”

“How would you know?” He snarled at her but stared hungrily at the food laid out on the platter. Cold cuts of meat, apples, grapes, oatcakes and cheeses. His tongue traced over his teeth. He was hungry. He clung to his anger, which was difficult to do in the face of such driving hunger.

“I was conditioned against such a thing at a young age.” The Queen did not look at him when she spoke, her voice devoid of emotion, but her words stilled him in a way her evident power over him had not.

“Someone did that to you…more than once?”

“Oh yes.” The Queen gave a humourless chuckle. “Much more than once.”

Haurool absorbed that and couldn’t ignore his hunger any longer. He stole forward on silent steps and picked up a cut of meat, darting back out of her reach before she’d even fully turned to him.

She had seen him out of the corner of her eye, a shadow moving in a brightly lit room, but she hadn’t caught anything more than an impression. She hadn’t heard him move at all. The Queen smiled suddenly. A true smile.

“Very good. You’ll do nicely.” She turned away from him and stalked to the back of the room.

The chamber was large. Larger than any indoor space Haurool had ever had to call his own, but he understood quite modest compared to the rest of the castle. The walls were a soft blue, the bed was large but not the massive expanse he might have expected. Haurool frowned.

This was not the private domain he had expected from a woman so dark and twisted. It spoke of an inner softness that he had yet to see from her.

He hoped it was there.

Softness meant an easy place to sink a claw or tooth. Softness meant he could kill her and get his heart back. Softness, for him, meant hope.

She disappeared behind a screen and he listened to the rustling of fabric. It took him a moment to realise she was disrobing. He tilted his head and thought about the biting kiss she’d lain on him in her vault.

Ah.

Really?

Well, he had done more distasteful things in the name of surviving. Pretending to be a human chief amongst them. He did not see why he should draw the line at fucking a woman if she demanded it.

Haurool began to strip himself. He tore off the leathers that she had bid him to wear to fit in with her knights, kicking off his boots, it was a moment’s work to be naked.

Haurool huffed out a breath and wondered exactly what she had planned for him.

If he was lucky, she’d underestimate his strength and he’d kill her with nothing more than his enthusiasm. She was not a she-wolf, not as strong or durable as any of the females he had enjoyed when he had lived with the werewolf pack in the Shivering Woods.

He knew that he was good at fucking. The she-wolves in the werewolf pack had told him so. He was also supposedly attractive. By human standards. He was ugly and hairless for a wolf. His limbs scrawny, his claws and teeth comparatively blunt, but apparently quite handsome for a human male.

He’d never bothered to do more than take their word on it.

The Queen stepped out from behind the screen, she wore some sort of thin slip and a plush robe that swept the floor behind her. She stilled in the action of tightening the sash at her slim waist when she saw him standing naked in the middle of her bedchamber.

“Not tonight, dear. I’m a little fatigued. It’s been a trying day.”

Haurool frowned.

“You don’t want…?”

“I will not force you.” Her voice was mild again, but there was an undercurrent of steel to it.

“You will take my heart but not my body?”

“I will have your fealty, whether you desire it or not, for you have failed me.” She snapped at him. “Unlike most, you have skills that are not common so you shall live long enough to make it up to me. Make no mistake, you belong to _me_ …but there are some things even I will not rob you of. I _will_ use your body, Huntsman, but not that way. Not unless you wish it.”

“You kissed me.”

“Part of the show.” The Queen shrugged. She plucked a grape from the platter and ate delicately.

“Like…the dresses and the smile that never reaches your eyes.”

Those dark eyes darted to his and the Queen picked up his heart. Haurool flinched, tensing automatically.

“Anything that happens between us stays between us.”

Haurool shuddered when the compulsion settled over him. It was not cruel and painful, like when she had squeezed his heart, but it was definitely there. He could feel it settle over him like a shroud would over his shoulders. He shifted under it, frowning, but was surprised at how comfortable he still was. He was aware that it was there only for the first few moments and then it sank beneath his conscious thoughts. Presumably it would only rise again if he attempted to go against her wishes.

Interesting. So it was not always painful.

“Do not attempt to take your heart back. Putting it back is as difficult as taking it out –without killing you at least. I advise you against such things they could go…poorly for you.”

Haurool focussed intensely on his heart and frowned again. He could feel…her? She held it in her palm and the connection wasn’t entirely one way. She wasn’t lying. He could tell that much.

Slowly, he nodded.

“Good. Seems only fair that you be warned.”

“Fair?” He scoffed.

“Yes.” She spoke firmly. “Fair. Treat me well, do as you’re told, and you will be given fair treatment as often as I am able.”

“What does that mean?” Haurool’s frown deepened.

The Queen swept towards him suddenly, so quickly that he stepped back in alarm. The back of his knees hit the bed and he toppled over. Her hand closed around his throat before his back could hit the sheets and she held him up seemingly effortlessly. Haurool gasped but found himself still able to breathe. It was that which stopped him from struggling. For a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him again she was so close, but she did not seal her lips to his.

Her dark eyes bored into his instead. She was close enough that he could feel the warm gust of her breath against his mouth, Her stare was intent and immovable. He found himself unable to look away, unable to even make a sound of protest, but she did not move to hurt him.

“I think,” she said finally, “that you well know what I mean. Peace is as foreign to you as it is to me. Though I am arguably better at controlling my… _baser_ urges.”

“You tried to kill your own daughter.” Haurool’s voice was strained, forcing air past her grip and his words choked off when her fingers flexed. She had not liked what he’d said.

“She is NOT my daughter…and I moved to kill her only when the time was right. Seven years. Seven long years of pretending to be that which I am not. Of pretending to be kind and gentle when all I  _ever_ wanted, was to rip her to shreds and bathe in her blood.” The Queen sucked in a deep breath, shoving the bloodlust down out of her gaze, her face once more softening out of its war mask. She became serene once more.

It was an enviable skill.

“I think you well know what that is like, my Huntsman, I think you know all too well.”

Haurool looked back at her for long and frozen moments and then…nodded once.

“Yes, now we’re getting somewhere.” She released her hold on his neck, pulling him upright first so he may sit unsupported. “Things will be easier if you are honest with me. I do not like being lied to.”

Haurool kept the irony of that statement to himself. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate him pointing out that a pathological liar could hardly take offence at being lied to herself.

He nodded instead.

“Wonderful. You now have a purpose in life.” She swept away from him once more and picked up the goblet of wine. Retracing her steps, she held it out to him until he took it from her.

“What is that?” He kept his tone carefully neutral and hurried to take a gulp of wine when she looked pointedly at the goblet.

Her only response was to reach into the pocket of her robe and lift his heart from it. He tensed, muscling down his instinct to try and tear her throat out before she hurt him again. He’d never get close enough even though she was within arm’s reach. He was fast. She was faster.

“You are to become useful to me.” The Queen rolled his heart from one hand to the other. Dropping into one palm and back again.

His breath caught every time she was not securely holding onto it and she smirked.

“Worry not. They can be crushed –with enough willpower- but not broken. Your heart is safe enough…so long as you do as you are told.”

Haurool gave another slow nod.

He believed her. He had not given in to her, he would never give in, but he believed her at least.

“You are to be my personal bodyguard, the General of my armies, you are to try your level best to become indispensable to me. In all likelihood you shall never succeed, but you are to certainly try.”

Haurool nodded again.

This was useful. The more he knew what she wanted the easier it would be to keep the pain from crippling him. So long as he wasn’t crippled, he was strong. So long as he was strong, he had a chance to escape.

“To do this, you must remain healthy. Which means no starving yourself nor denying yourself water. You must remain alert, so no drugs or alcohol unless I allow it. You will remain as fit and healthy as you are able. To fight for your life when you come up against my enemies. They have now become yours. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” Haurool ducked his head in a bow.

He could feel layer upon layer of compulsions settling over him. As inescapable as his need to eat or drink. As before, he felt them only for a moment before they sank beneath the surface thoughts swimming through his head.

He weaved under the dizzying sensation but shook it off quickly. She looked pleased at his resilience.

“Good. Now, one more thing, you can never act against me with malicious intent. Never move to harm me with murder or mayhem in mind. Do you understand? You will protect my life and wellbeing as fiercely as you would your own.”

“I understand.” Haurool nodded and she studied him for a long moment.

She dipped her head in return and dropped his heart back into the pocket of her robe. His eyes followed the throbbing crystallised organ hungrily but he made no move to try and take it back.

What would be the point in trying now?

“Eat if you will.” She waved to the platter still sitting mostly untouched on the table.

Haurool felt his stomach grumble at the sight of the food and he was up off the bed and stalking the platter before he’d made conscious thought to do so. He picked it up, examining what was on offer and sank down onto his heels. The platter rested on his knees and he bolted down the food mechanically, not looking at her, but his senses were tuned to the Queen. He devoured the meat first, then the cheese, picked at the oatcakes and ate some fruit before deciding he didn’t really like it. Still, he was full by the time he was done and licked at his fingers with dabs of his tongue to sweep up any crumbs that he had missed.

Finally, he turned to look at her again, expecting her to be watching him, but tilted his head when he found her reclined on the bed instead. She lay on her side, her head propped up on one hand, and a book open on the bedspread. She read quickly, her eyes skimming over the pages, devouring the details as hungrily as he had his dinner.

Haurool stayed where he was, crouched by the warmth of the hearth, and watched the golden light from the fire flicker over her. He rubbed at his eyes after a long moment of staring and she spoke without ever lifting her attention from her book.

“If you are tired, you should sleep.” She turned a page. “Your training shall be unforgiving to say the least…in table manners if nothing else.” The last was murmured mostly to herself.

Haurool uncoiled to his feet and still she did not look at him.

He studied her, his expression fierce with concentration. She was not sweating, he’d smell it, her pulse didn’t race at the hollow of her throat, she was not merely pretending to read but fully absorbed in her book.

She was…not afraid of him.

Haurool tilted his head the other way and prowled slowly around the bed to stand behind her. She neither turned nor even tensed to show that him being in her blind spot worried her.

“You’re in my light.” She spoke absently again, turning another page, and Haurool found himself moving away from between the candelabra and herself out of confusion more than anything else.

Stalking around the bed once more, Haurool stood at the foot of it and spoke when she seemed too absorbed in her book to take any notice of him.

“Where am I to sleep?” That succeeded in getting her attention.

She lifted her head, turning to him and frowned.

“Where do you want to sleep?”

Haurool rumbled a sound low in his throat that he knew she wouldn’t understand and decided to test his boundaries a bit.

“On the bed.”

She arched a brow.

“With me?”

Haurool bared his teeth, looking as feral as possible.

“I have ever slept better wrapped around a female.”

If his attempt to make her uncomfortable made even a dent on her confidence he couldn’t tell. She looked about herself, as if measuring the span of the bed, then shifted more to one side. She nodded to the wider available space.

“Room enough?” She’d already turned back to her book and Haurool decided to figuratively nip at her nose again.

He hurdled the foot of the bed in a single lithe bound and pounced altogether too close to her, looming over her on his fingers and toes. His pupils would gleam silver in the shadows, he knew, his malicious grin nothing more than a slash of white in the dark of his silhouette against the fire. It was all her weak human vision would be able to glean of him, he knew. Just another shadow in the dark…though this one was ready to rend and tear as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

The only sound she made was one of faint annoyance when the impact of his landing bounced her book clean off the bed to clap onto the floor on its splayed pages. She huffed out a sigh through her nose and then looked up at him.

“I thought you wanted to sleep.”

Haurool’s smirk dimmed but then returned again when he meekly settled down onto the bed beside her and rolled onto his back, arching his body around in a curl much like a young pup would do to avoid a nip to his tail when he’d been naughty.

He was surprised when she reacted as any she-wolf would to a recalcitrant youth. She lifted her hand and the book appeared in it. She succinctly ignored him, fussing over a fold in one of the pages, found her place once more, and returned to reading.

The insult was cool and calculated. She did exactly what she knew would drive him wild.

He snarled and pounced before the compulsion could rise to stop him.

He tumbled her over onto her back, his body blocking all the light from falling on her, and he snarled right in her face, all of his sharp teeth bared.

She gave no reaction at all other than to carefully close her book with her finger caught between the pages to keep her place.

It maddened Haurool and he roared, his head darting for the soft skin of her throat. His hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back to bare her neck to him. Though something stopped him short of pulling until the delicate bones in her spine simply snapped under his irate strength.

He snarled in frustration, his teeth closing over the blood vessels now standing out in her neck. Though his teeth barely grazed her soft skin.

He bit at her again and again, her throat, shoulders, her chest, but it was like she was just a hair out of his reach. His teeth ghosted over her skin, his fangs zinging nothing more deadly than a love bite here and there. Her skin flushed at each point of attack, scraped a little raw, but that was as grievous a wound as he could inflict on her.

Sitting up, straddling her waist, he barely noticed that he held himself up so that he wouldn’t crush her and keep her from breathing. Moving onto his claws, Haurool raked at every inch of her that he could reach.

He knew from experience that he was strong enough to crush bones like hers in one hand. His nails might appear to be blunt but they were like the edge of a dagger, more than capable of ripping out great furrows of her flesh. Peeling her skin away as a knife would an apple’s.

Nothing. His hands were clawed, prepared to rip out great handfuls of her flesh, until he actually touched her, then his fingers straightened and the worst he could do was drag his nails over the silk of her nightgown and rumple it a little.

The Queen STILL wasn’t afraid.

She lay supine under him, her head tilted, studying his frenzy as if making notes on which features she wanted to keep and what needed refining. He lashed and tore at her but her breathing never even hitched. She was warmer but only because he was very nearly sitting on her and their heat had combined. Her heart rate remained steady, her eyes almost sleepy looking for she studied him from under hooded lashes.

It was infuriating.

Haurool had no idea how long he raged at her but he knew it had to have been quite a time. Even in a full berserker rage, Haurool’s stamina was rarely matched by anyone, even a werewolf. He could and had, outrun them on a hunt and been more efficient at taking the prey down.

Haurool finally sagged into exhaustion. His chest heaved, his lungs bellowing in his chest. He shivered all over like a racehorse run ragged. His throat was raw from all the snarling and screaming, his head pounded in time with the thundering of his physical heart in his chest and he toppled forward, catching himself on his hands to keep from crushing her still.

He blearily watched his sweat drip from his skin down onto her robe, darkening the fabric as it soaked in.

“See? You cannot hurt me.” She reached up and smoothed some damp hair back from his brow. “No matter how maddened, how dangerous you become, there will always be one person that you cannot harm. You will become my pet monster, you will become death and fear incarnate, you will be a cold blooded killer and you will become more dangerous than you have ever been nor any man before you but you will never be monstrous to me. This is my gift to you.”

Haurool shivered all over and –when she pushed gently at his shoulders, he toppled onto his side and lay curled on the bed beside her. He felt as weak as a newborn pup. The sweat was beginning to cool on him and it made him shudder all the harder.

The Queen sat up, pulling a comforter from the foot of the bed and draping it over him. It would not do for him to catch a cold and he was in no state to bathe himself now. She would not do that for him. A man had to have his pride after all.

Smoothing back his hair again, the Queen studied his face.

His mouth was open, still panting his exertion though his breathing was already slowing, as was his pulse galloping in his neck. His eyes were open, staring at nothing, adjusting to this new life he found himself in.

The Queen nodded to herself. Good, his training was going well. He had to believe he was helpless against her but there was no point in breaking him. He had to have hope. He had to have something good in his life for it was that which would keep him going through all the horrors.

For her it had been…well, he was dead now and there was nothing for her but even she would not wish that on another.

Not unless that other was Snow, but that was different.

No, her Huntsman would have what she could not. He would be her favoured, he would be her monster, he would become the greatest weapon the Enchanted Forest –the world- had ever seen, but she would not destroy him.

She knew well what it was to be out of control. She knew what happened when there were no restraints, no rules, nothing precious to hold onto, nothing to protect.

Her mother had taught her well, after all.

The Queen shook her hair back, shaking such thoughts away with it, and straightened her robe. She swept a stray curl of hair back and settled herself back down on the bed to read once more. Her Huntsman had finally quieted, his breathing deep and even but –when she looked down at his face again- she found him looking back at her.

She arched a brow in silent question.

“I am cold.”

The Queen nodded and shifted closer to him, her arm slid under his cheek, giving him a pillow to rest on. She nearly squeaked in surprise when his arm cinched about her waist and dragged her flush against him. He threw the comforter over her too, wrapping her under it, enveloping her in body heat. He wriggled closer to her, resting his cheek on the pillow of her chest and held her tightly to him.

He surprised her when he appeared to drop into sleep immediately and she frowned down at him a moment. Wondering what had just happened.

She had wanted him to cleave to her. Obviously. If she was to have his loyalty without resorting to the heart for every order he had to want to be with her on some level. He had to be attached to her but that had been…quick.

The Queen looked down at him and gave real through to hurling him across the room. A lesson against taking such liberties with her. She’d had to let him get close in order to goad him into losing his temper at her to show how ineffective it was but _this_ …

The magic died away from her fingertips and her hand settled on top of his head instead, stroking through the curls of his hair.

Tonight, she decided. Just for tonight she would let him have this. This warmth, this pretend affection, it would make him more malleable. There would be time enough later to punish him, she promised herself.

She did not think about how she did not need to stroke his hair. Nor how she needn’t draw the comforter further up about him.

She especially did not think about how pleasant it was to have a warm body next to hers.

No.

She did not think about that at all.

 

_**Storybrooke, Now…** _

 

“I’m cold.”

Graham looked down at Regina, still tucked securely in his arms and he nodded.

“I know.” Sitting up carefully, Graham balanced himself, then lurched to his feet without ever dropping her.

She stayed tucked where she was, either uncaring or unconcerned about him letting her fall. He stepped out of the empty bath and carried her through to the bedroom.

He never let go of her. Not once.

He flipped back the duvet and bundled them both under it. She lay tucked into the curve of his body, her arm wrapped securely around his neck still and her face buried against his chest.

“You…you promise?”

“Promise what, pet?”

“You promise that you won’t ever let me…”

“Always.” Graham tightened his arms about her, rubbing her back. “Always, love.”

She was tense for a long moment, the torrent of emotion in her swirling in an unstoppable whirlpool. Tearing at her from the inside, eroding her into hollowness, and –slowly- easing. It calmed, settling, receding until there was nothing left but a hard rock of certainty.

Of belief.

In him.

It was only then that she finally cried.

Not silent tears, not the tip of the iceberg that had frozen her heart for so long, but she _sobbed_.

Regina’s fingers fisted in the shirt on his back, her forehead pressed against his sternum, her tears streaming from her. Great wrenching sobs were torn involuntarily from her chest. Her entire body rocked by them. She shook and cried and finally, finally, _finally_ , grieved.

Sixty years of torment, raised by a sadist, the love of her life killed, sold to a man old enough to be her father, torn apart by feelings she had never been taught how to control or understand. Putting on a mask and building her entire life around it. So many injustices, so many horrors that had survived, clinging to that mask for long after her mother had been killed. Long after she had been lain to rest and Regina had never –not once- truly grieved for what had happened –for what had been done- to her.

Now she did.

It wouldn’t make everything better. She wasn’t going to be healed overnight. She was suddenly going to have sunlight filling her soul but…

It was a start.

Graham could only hold her. Only try and ground her with every tremor that shook her, with every sob that threatened to tear her in half, with every dark thought that spun in her head and finally unwound its hold around her soul. He could only be there.

Graham held her and wanted to howl. Wanted to something –anything- to take this hurt from her. To make her better. To make her whole.

He would keep his word, he swore to himself, he would never let her become that monster again. Wear that skin once more, perhaps, use it as the weapon the mask was, but never let it wear her.

Graham held her, the woman he loved, the woman he had married, his soulmate by accident if not choice, and hoped with everything he had that he could be enough.

Because it had to.

It just had to.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh...just went through the whole rigmarole of formatting this chapter and...posted it in the wrong story. 
> 
> Blergh. 
> 
> Still, here we are. Not sure how I feel about it but it's something!

**Chapter 14 – A Cunning Plan**

 

Graham looked down at Regina and stroked her hair back from her face.

She was exhausted.

It had taken her until the small hours to fall asleep. She’d cried and cried and cried far past the point of stamina that he had expected of even her. He’d been relieved when she had finally succumbed to exhaustion and fallen into a dead sleep. She had remained plastered to him all through the night, her hands fisted in his shirt and he had been in no hurry to peel her away.

Still, it was morning and he had places to be. Namely, at the job that he had no desire to do in a town filled with people that he largely didn’t care for.

Curse and a half she had cast, that was for sure.

Though if she had never cast it then she would never have admitted that she loved him, nor that she needed him. She’d have never just _let go_ and let him in.

For now she slept peacefully, not a trace of the nightmares that he knew plagued her often. No furrowed brow or restless movements. She was at peace.

For now.

He almost dreaded to wake her, but he had to leave and he’d either have to wake her or cut himself out of his shirt to get free of her hold. She looked so relaxed, so young, that he considered losing the shirt.

“Regina.” Graham’s voice was gentle and he stroked her face again. “Regina, love, wake up.”

Regina did frown a little then but she buried her face into his chest and refused to be wakened just yet. Graham smirked and ducked his head down, nuzzling her hair out of the way and speaking into her ear.

“Pet, you need to let me go. I have to go to work.”

“Mmf.”

“You’re staying in bed, but I need to go.”

“Mm-mm.” Regina wound an arm around him and he nipped at her ear with his teeth affectionately.

“Come on, love, I’ll even leave the shirt for you.” He could tell the moment she awoke fully.

She tensed, her spine stiffening and her shoulders hunching but he refused to let her. Graham nuzzled at her neck again and deliberately dragged his scruff of a beard over the skin of her throat. Regina jerked and the laugh was drawn involuntarily from her.

She had always been particularly sensitive there. When he bit her there she would shiver and moan for him in the most pleasing manner.

She relaxed, her shoulders shaking with a quiet chuckle rather than tightening with tension and she warily relaxed into his hold.

“What time is it?” Her voice was still sleepy but he kept her wrapped in his arms just in case she had any bright ideas about pulling away.

“Almost seven. I need to get up.”

Regina grumbled a displeased sound and he chuckled at her.

“Well, as delighted as I would be to stay here with you, someone has to run the town whilst you continue to be a lady of leisure.”

“I’m getting up.” Regina moved to suit action to words and he rolled her over, pinning her beneath him but careful not to crush her due to her wounds.

“No. I prescribe bed rest. You had a rough night and I don’t want you getting sicker. I need to have someone to sic on the Woodcutter when he shows his ugly mug.”

Regina opened her mouth, thinking about taking offence, but it morphed into a yawn and Graham took that to be a win in his favour.

“I still have a job to do.”

“Don’t think I don’t know you just doodle and pretend to work all day.” Graham grinned for her and she twisted her mouth.

“I do work!”

“Not like me. No crime fighting or daring do.” He teased her again, trying to keep things light between them. “You don’t even have a gun.”

“You have eight.” Regina drawled at him. “Compensating for something?”

“You know that I need compensation for nothing.” Graham nipped at her chin with his teeth in a soft warning. “And it’s one gun for every day of the week and two for Sunday. I’m a Republican.”

“You’d never know it from how…loyal you had been to me. On my throne. Six times.”

“Nine.” Graham toyed with the rolled neckline of his sweater that she had stolen from him. They both still wore their clothes from the day before. He’d been too intent on comforting her to worry about such things as pyjamas.

“You’re counting the coffin again.” She hummed plucking at the buttons of his shirt with her good hand.

“I a _lways_ count the coffin.” His hand slithered under the sweater and splayed over her wound, he pressed lightly and she moved in response to the sensation but not a flinch of pain. “Good, you’re getting better.”

“The coffin doesn’t count.”

“It very much counts. Definitely to do with royalty that one.”

“It does not.”

“Does too.”

“Why?”

“Wait until you’re better. We can re-enact it and I’ll show you.”

“Leopold’s casket isn’t here and I don’t know why you’d want to replay that little portion of our…escapades.”

“Sexcapades you mean.” Graham smirked and continued to ruck the hem of her sweater up so he could see the bandaging for himself.

“That isn’t a word and you haven’t answered my question. Riding you on top of my dead husband’s coffin isn’t exactly…right.” Regina stared at the ceiling rather than look at him.

“Well for a start, it wasn’t one sided, I was claiming you right in front of your husband.”

“He was dead.”

“Semantics.”

“Really?”

“Really AND,” Graham spoke over her when she opened her mouth to protest, “it was our first time. That’s right enough.”

Regina turned her face away from his and she looked over at the chink of light streaming in through the tiny gap in the curtains. It took a long moment but he saw the barest of smirks curl her mouth.

“It was fairly…memorable.”

“I’ll bet the blackguard remember it.” Graham showed all his teeth. A flush stole up over Regina’s neck and her eyes darted back to his.

“I thought I’d ordered them to leave.”

“Can you blame them for staring? You never look more beautiful than when you’re shivering and coming down from whatever wicked thing I’ve done to you.”

“You could have ordered them to leave.” She grumbled.

“I told you, I was claiming you. The _point_ was for them to see.”

“You put me on display deliberately?!”

“Aye.” Graham finally succeeded in squirming her out of her sweater so she wore just the tank top and her bra. “And I’d do it again.”

“You will not.”

“Every chance I get.” Graham hoisted her tanktop up over the smooth planes of her stomach. She tried to push his hands away but he batted them away and began to peel back her bandaging.

“I am not a prize to be won. Nor a broodmare to be shown off at market.”

“Have I ever spouted such nonsense?” Graham looked her dead in the eye. “I am not your first husband nor will I ever tolerate being compared to him. You are precious to me in a way that he could never comprehend. Yes?”

Regina looked down at his shirt front and plucked at the buttons again.

“If you say so.”

“I _mean_ so.” Graham ducked his head so she had to look him in the eye. “You are my wife and if I may not tell the world with words it shall certainly be with action. I do not require that you wear a ring but you shall wear my scent. I do not need you to call me husband but I shall be the first you call if ever you are in need. You do not belong to me but you are part of me and I you. This is what it is to be married. This is what it _should_ be. I cannot change your life how it has been lived but I can change your future and how that should be.”

“Big words for seven in the morning.” Regina looked away from him again but her dismissal did not hold the conviction that it would have yesterday.

“Aye, I’ve ever preferred action to prove myself, but your wounds prevent me right now. When you’re better, pet. I’ll show you then.” Graham kissed her quickly and then levered himself upright. “Unfortunately, the only action I can do now is to leave you for my mistress of work.”

Regina sat up, intending to swing her legs over the side of the bed but Graham simply pushed her back down.

“Bed.”

“But…”

“ _Bed_.” He loomed over her again, nose to nose with her. “You’re tired and I can’t sleep at the station if you’re there.”

Regina wanted to say that she wasn’t tired but all that came out was a yawn. She scowled at herself.

“I want to pick up Henry from school. I’m not strong enough to drive. So you can either take me to work in the morning or come back for me later and that will waste everyone’s time.” She felt at least a token effort was required.

“Then I’ll come back and get you.” Graham hoisted the sheets back up over her and tucked her in with such efficiency that Regina thought she might have to chew her way out. “Now, stay here, I’m going for a shower.” With that, he spun and disappeared into the bathroom.

Regina scowled after him but the expression only held for a couple of minutes before it dissolved into a smile.

She wriggled herself free of her duvet mummification and collapsed back into the pillows. He was right, she was tired. Regina gave another yawn so cavernous she nearly dislocated her jaw and snuggled (though she would deny it under torture) into the warm space that Graham had left beside her. She inhaled the scent of him on the bed linens, absorbed the pattering sound of the shower turning on in the bathroom and sank into that warm and hazy place between sleep and wakefulness.

Her eyes snapped open when the mattress suddenly dipped under a new weight. She blinked rapidly and found Henry sitting beside her on the bed.

“Hey.” He smiled at her and Regina lifted a hand to rub at her eyes, nearly braining herself with her cast.

She frowned and hurriedly switched to her good hand. She couldn’t hear the shower, the room seemed brighter and Henry was fully dressed save for his shoes. How long had she been asleep?

“It’s a little after eight. Graham said you had time to drink this with me before I went to school.” Henry held a mug out to her and Regina blearily sat up, propping herself against the pillows.

She accepted the mug from him, staring blankly at its contents and then looked up in surprise when Henry sidled up beside her, leaning carefully into her shoulder. Lifting her arm, Regina carefully wound it around him and cuddled him close.

“You okay?” “I’m fine.” Henry looked up at her in surprise. “Are _you_ okay?”

Regina was quiet a long moment and looked down into her mug. It was steaming hot and filled with some sort of…brown…liquid. She arched a brow.

“What is this?”

“Graham made it, _Crème de la Crème de la Graham_ , he said it’s like hot chocolate.” Henry sipped from his mug and smiled. “It’s really good.”

Regina shrugged, blew over her mug of miscellaneous brown and took a sip. Her eyes widened and she coughed.

“That’s whiskey!” She coughed again. That was a _lot_ of whiskey. “Are you drinking whiskey?!”

“No.” Henry looked mildly disappointed and peered into his mug. “Mine’s just chocolate. It’s really thick though. More like melted chocolate. Can I have some of yours? Just to taste?”

“No!” Regina held the mug away from him but Henry noticed it didn’t stop her from taking another drink. “You’re not having whiskey until you’re…what’s the legal age in this world?”

“Twenty one.”

“That.” Regina drank again. It was very good. She didn’t know if that was the whiskey mixing with the painkillers in her system or the tongue coating thickness of the chocolate (honestly, he had to have melted half a pound into it) but Graham had outdone himself. “That and a few years older.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I am lots of fun. So much fun that I’m getting drunk at eight in the morning.”

“It’s nearly quarter past.” Henry pointed out helpfully.

“Oh, well, that’s alright then.” Regina was halfway through her whiskey laced concoction and she really was beginning to feel better.

Substance abuse could be a wonderful thing.

“Graham said it’s all part of his cunning plan. So you won’t try to be all independent and drive when you shouldn’t and so you’ll go back to sleep.”

“You, my boy, are a clipe.”

“What’s that?” Henry wrinkled his nose.

“A tattletale. It’s a word from the Blackwood which is to the North of the Enchanted Forest. From where Graham was born.”

Henry beamed at her.

“What?”

“I’m glad you’re like this now.”

“Intoxicated?”

“No. Honest. I’m glad we can talk about this stuff. It makes me happy to know that we don’t have to lie to each other anymore. I…I missed you.”

Regina opened her mouth to tell him that she hadn’t gone anywhere but…that wasn’t entirely true. She’d gone into herself. She’d hidden behind her mask, fallen back into old habits when things had ceased to go her way. Regina looked down at her spiked drink and felt the burn of the whiskey all the way down her throat and into her stomach.

“I…missed being here for you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. We both screwed up.”

Regina smiled a lopsided smile.

“I love you, Henry.” She kissed him on the forehead and was surprised when he leaned up and kissed her on the cheek. He lifted his hand and rubbed at the spot.

“Chocolate.” He explained at her frown and she chuckled. It almost didn’t hurt. This whiskey was good stuff.

“Lad,” Graham pushed open the door and prowled into the room, “time to go or we’ll be late.”

“I’m coming.” Henry straightened up from Regina’s side and smiled for her again. “I’ll be back to say bye.” He wormed his way off the bed, gulped down his drink and hurried from the room to find his shoes.

“Is getting the wife drunk before office hours part of how life should be too?”

“In a perfect world.” Graham smirked and shrugged his jacket on. “It’s certainly not the first time either.”

“Oh?” Regina arched a brow over the rim of her cup.

“I remember the City Christmas party and the copying machine. Come to think of it, I still have a few copies.”

“You do not.” Regina’s hand dipped with her mug so suddenly she almost spilled her drink all over herself.

“I have an album for them.” Graham grinned wickedly.

Regina narrowed her eyes, trying to decide if he was teasing her or not. Her face was already going numb because of her drink so her truth barometer was a little off.

“You didn’t have to get me drunk for me to stay in bed.”

“But all the better options are not possible right now so needs must.” He straightened his tie and rounded the bed to stand over her, his face suddenly serious. “Try and rest, eh? There’s no shame in doing it when you need to. Nobody expects you back to work just yet.”

“I’m well enough for paperwork.” She drained the last of her drink and pushed the mug into his hand when he held it out to take it from her.

“But, alas, too drunk. My nefarious scheme has worked.”

“You fiend, you.” Regina managed a smile.

She supposed the alcohol would help her sleep without dreams. Something she was in sore need of.

“I’m back!” Henry swung into the room, backpack over his shoulders, shoes and jacket on and Regina smiled when he bounded around the bed to hug her tightly around the neck. “I’ll see you at the school?”

“Graham will bring me to pick you up.”

“Okay.” Henry kissed her cheek again, this time avoiding leaving a chocolate print, and grinned. “See you later.”

“See you later.” She smiled in return and hoped it wasn’t as hazy as it felt.

Graham gave her a quick kiss by way of goodbye and bundled her under the duvet again, tucking her in. Regina lay there, resigned to humouring him until he drove away with Henry. She’d be stuck in the house all day but she had no intention of wasting the time by sleeping. She’d think of _something_ to do.

She was asleep before she heard the front door slam behind Henry and Graham on their way to the car.

 

_**Later…** _

 

Regina sat at her bench again and waited for school to finish.

She was in good spirits. Relatively. She had slept most of the day away but had woken up feeling well rested for the first time in…a while. That and she had managed to avoid a hangover, so things were looking good in that regard.

She had woken up an hour before Graham had said he would return and had spent it lazily making herself presentable mainly by brushing her teeth for ten minutes straight. _Crème de la Crème de la Graham_ might be the business when it came to knocking her out but it did absolutely nothing for her breath.

Still, she was well rested, looked good, smelled good and had even managed to talk him into swinging by the office to pick up some paperwork so that she might have something to play with whilst she waited.

Regina had the files spread out before her and she’d been there for a good twenty minutes. Before any of the other parents had turned up, that was for sure. She was aware that they had trickled in one or two at a time and she was also aware that she was the prime topic of conversation but she couldn’t –in the vernacular- give a fuck.

She didn’t want to miss him and neither did she want to be bored so paperwork it was.

She read over the budget sheets for the library and the school’s twenty eighth request to have it reopened.

It had been boarded up when the curse had conjured the entire town but the common consensus was that she had wilfully and maliciously shut it down. So she was forced to justify her supposed decision every single year to both the PTA and Henry.

If anyone had cared or had the thought to look back through the town records they’d have found that said excuses ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous. One year, if she recalled correctly, her reasoning had simply been _because I said so_. Other years had been less polite and a couple had been incredibly rude.

Still…if Henry knew about the curse and they were trying to break it anyway…what difference did it make if the library was open?

She’d have to find someone to run it, of course –very few people sprang to mind as good candidates- but there had to be someone out there.

“That looks super boring.”

Regina, so intent on her paperwork, flinched quite badly when Norman dropped down onto the bench beside her. She hissed out a slow breath at the pain the flinch caused her and then slowly turned to him when he launched into apologies.

“Gosh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…”

“Never mind.” She cut him off firmly. “Probably best not to sneak up on me though, hmm?”

Norman looked up at her with wide blue eyes that were so worried it was almost comical with his incredibly vertical hair.

Regina softened with a smile and he warily returned it with a lopsided one of his own. Her gaze tracked over him, checking for any visible bruises or injuries and she shifted a little on the bench when she found that he seemed to be in perfect health.

“You made it home alright yesterday?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty fast when I have to be.” Norman grinned and sat forward, tucking his hands under his knees on the bench.

“Maybe you should join the track team.” Regina tilted her head with a smile and Norman chuckled.

“And get cornered half naked in the changing rooms? I don’t think so.”

“It won’t be that way forever.” And it wouldn’t be, Regina vowed. Twenty eight years she had sentenced this boy to being bullied. A lifetime. No more.

“Yeah, soon I’ll be going to middle school and there will be a whole NEW bunch of bullies to kick the stuffing outta me.” Norman’s grin was toothy and false.

“Don’t be facetious.” Regina warned him and set about tidying away her files.

Now that she had another distraction, the conundrum of the library could be left until she had run out of other more pleasant things to do. Like root canal.

“I prefer the term ‘realist’.” Norman shrugged and smiled for her again when she frowned at him.

“I mean it, Norman. I said that I would help you and I shall.”

Norman’s smile slowly drained from his face when he realised she was perfectly serious. He searched her gaze for a long moment and spoke quietly, almost to himself.

“You’re different.”

Regina looked back at him for a long and still moment and then nodded.

“Yesterday was a busy day.”

“I’ll say. You’re a completely different colour.” Norman laughed and Regina frowned at him. He tilted his head and thought how to explain. “I see colours around people sometimes. People that are really…alive. Yours has been all dark blue and yellow crackles but now it’s more…purple. There’s still blue and yellow in there but there’s purple and pink too. It’s very pretty.” He assured her.

“My aura.”

“Your what-now?” Norman frowned.

“Aura. It’s what you can see. The cloud of background energy given off by everyone just by living. Sort of the spiritual equivalent of body heat.” Regina shrugged a shoulder and stuffed her files into her bag.

“Oh.” Norman turned and glanced over at the crowd of parents. “Aura. Right.”

“Can you see it at a distance?”

“Uh-huh.” Norman nodded slowly, studying the crowd of parents who were trying not to notice his intent regard. He turned back and smiled at her. “Yours is the brightest though. The only others that’s that kind of bright is the Sheriff and Mister Gold.”

Regina tilted her head. Interesting. She and Gold were –in reality- sorcerers of some excessive power. That would explain their over bright auras, but Graham? What wasn’t he telling her?

“What is Graham’s like?”

“The Sheriff?” Norman reached up and scrubbed a hand through his hair. It did that thing where it flattened for an instant and then stubbornly sprang back up again. “His is weird. It’s all dark and kind of…furry, but there’s a red kind of underbelly to it and purple and green and silver. It’s really strange.”

“Hmm.” Regina tilted her head at that and fidgeted with her pen.

Perhaps something to do with him being raised by wolves then? No, that wouldn’t explain the power behind such a prominent aura. She made a mental note to have a look herself as soon as she could suitably enchant something to look with.

Had she still had her magic, she’d have been able to see between one blink and the next. As it was, she had to make do with the more analogue version. Reduced to poultices and enchanted rocks like some roadside conjurer.

If Gold had been aware, he’d have laughed himself sick at her predicament.

“How do you know about auras?” Norman said suddenly and Regina’s eyes darted back to his. “How did you know what they were even called? I didn’t know that and I can see them. Can you tell me more about what I’m seeing?”

Regina straightened back from him and immediately opened her mouth to say something cruel. Something cutting that would send him running so he stopped asking questions that might give away…she stalled herself and clipped her teeth together. She was trying to break the curse, remember? She had to _keep_ reminding herself. It was the tentative hope on Norman’s face that made her decision for her.

She thought on how scared he must have been. Seers developed young, the gift –or curse- with them from birth in most cases. Most of them went very insane very quickly and that was why they were so useless. Translating crazy to English was somewhat difficult and usually meant their predictions only made sense after the fact…but Norman wasn’t crazy. That spoke of a solid steel to his personality that few possessed.

Still, it would have been terrifying to a little boy to be surrounded by the dead. To hear voices that no one else could, to see things that no one else could. To be ostracised and ridiculed for it and to –worst of all- have no idea what was happening to him or who he was. No more, Regina decided. She’d made the decision to help him. She wasn’t going to back out now.

“I’ve read about people like you. Heard many stories.” Regina considered how to go on. “I can try and help you.”

“Really?!” Norman’s face was a picture of delighted disbelief. “You think so?”

“I said I’ll try and tell you about your…skills.” Regina didn’t want to call them a gift. They hadn’t been anything like a pleasant experience for Norman thus far. “I can’t take them away. I can’t make you blind to them.”

“Oh, I know that.” Norman waved that away. “I think that would be kind of like cutting my nose off anyway but –if you can tell me anything about why I am the way I am…it would make me feel better I suppose.”

“I don’t think I can tell you the why of it.” Regina shook her head. “If there’s a reason for people like you then nobody knows of it yet.”

“Oh.” Norman looked a little crestfallen but then brightened quickly. “But there ARE other people like me out there?”

“Of course.” Regina nodded. “Most children, in fact, can see what you see. That’s where imaginary friends come from. As they grow up, however, people –usually their parents- tell them that their friend is imaginary. They tell them over and over that they can’t really be seeing the things that they’re seeing. With most children, that is enough to kill that sense in them.”

“Maybe that’s why I can still do it then.” Norman frowned, mulling it over. “I didn’t have a mom and dad to tell me that none of it was real.” Regina blinked at him and he shrugged with that lopsided smile of his. “Yeah. Another tick in the ‘Reasons to be Bullied’ box. I’m an orphan. I live at The Shoe Shop with the rest of the rejects.”

“You are not a reject!” Regina told him fiercely and he blinked at her tone. He shrugged and looked away.

“Not all of us are as lucky as Henry.”

Regina huffed out a slow breath and looked at Norman for a long moment, not sure what to say to that. Was Henry really lucky in the life he was trapped in with her? What had she raised him to be? An outcast, scared of his own mind because he hadn’t been _certain_ that the curse had real he had just hoped and hoped and hoped…Regina looked back at Norman and shook the thoughts away.

“Well, I might not be able to bring you home with me, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t help you in other ways.” Regina smiled down at him and Norman frowned for a second before deciding to smile.

“You gonna give me a big knife?”

“ _No_.” Regina looked wide eyed at him. She calmed after a moment. “Blunt force trauma is fine for little boys but NOT stabbing and other such messier escapades. You have to be _much_ older for that kind of thing.”

“Thirteen?” Norman giggled at her, not taking her seriously in the slightest.

“At least eleven.” Regina told him archly and he laughed at her again.

She smiled at the sound and reached out and caught him when the school bell rang and he made to bolt.

“Oooooh, no you don’t.” Regina yanked him back down onto the bench beside her. “You’re actually going to stick around today. You’re not alone anymore.”

Norman looked worried when the other children began to pour out of the school building and he seemed to get more and more wound up the closer they got to him. His little hands gripped the edge of the bench so tightly his knuckles cracked white. Regina knew better than to reach out and take his hand, despite how much she wanted to comfort him. If any of the other children saw a ‘big boy’ like a ten year old needing his hand held then it would just give them another excuse.

“You…” Norman spoke so quietly that she had to lean in closer to him to hear. “You promise?”

“I promise the same as if I were promising to Henry.” Regina told him just as quietly and he looked at her sharply. Smiling warily when she did.

She straightened away from him when she heard a familiar shout.

“Mom!”

“Hello, sweetheart.” Regina happily accepted the hug that Henry flung around her neck. He cared distinctly less about other people’s opinions than of him than Norman did. At least she had given him that.

Henry stood back from her after a moment and then glanced at Norman. Regina opened her mouth to make introductions but she needn’t have bothered.

“Hi,” Henry thrust his hand out at Norman, grinning, “I’m Henry.”

“I know who you are.” Norman looked a little bemused but took Henry’s hand in his own, jolted to the shoulder by the single strong shake from the other boy. He hurried to defend himself. “I’m Norman.”

“Cool, we’re going for ice cream, you wanna come?”

Regina’s eyebrows rose. It would seem that her son was a better person than she had thought. She’d expected to have to throw them at one another and wheedle and cajole until they became something like friends but it would seem that Henry had taken her words yesterday to heart and wanted to make up for thinking badly of Norman.

“I…I don’t have any money.” Norman looked between them.

“Pfft! I’ve got pocket money.” Henry waved it away and then gripped the straps of his rucksack hitching it up higher over his shoulders. “I haven’t bought my comic books yet, so it’s all good.”

Regina let Henry bargain with the other boy’s pride and swung her legs over the other side of the bench, carefully pushing to her feet. She huffed out a slow breath having successfully managed verticality and smoothed her hands down over her dress.

She had carefully picked her outfit that day for the upcoming meeting with Missus Cake. She had wanted something that spoke of her position as Mayor but also screamed her status as a mother.

She wore a jersey material dress of a deep purple that clung to her to mid thigh. The rolled neckline was so broad it was off her shoulders. The silver chain of the Pegasus medallion disappeared beneath the neckline drawing the eye to the barest hint of her cleavage, she wore pearl earrings, the shield bracelet jangled on her wrist and the silver and brass rings glinted on her fingers. She wore leggings that were decorated with a simple purple on black pinstripe pattern. Brown ankle boots of a mere three inch heel were her only concession to the awareness in the back of her mind that she may have to run for her life at some point if the Woodcutter turned up again.

Still, it wasn’t like Graham was far away nor was she unarmed. Her new jewellery collection saw to that.

“I got it.” Henry bounced forward and snatched her jacket and purse up off the bench before she could and she arched an eyebrow at him.

“I can carry my own bag. It’s too much for you to carry all of that.”

“Norman’s helping.” Henry, without looking away from her, slapped her brown leather jacket against Norman’s chest with a small ‘oof!’ from the other boy. Henry painted a bright grin on his face and slung her purse over his shoulder with absolutely no intention of giving it back.

“Fine.” Regina herded them towards the school gate. “Let’s go.”

“Is Graham meeting us at the diner?”

“His dinner break is coming up, he’ll be there for a little while.” Regina gripped Norman by the looped handle at the top of his rucksack when he made to sneak away when they turned towards Granny’s.

She dragged him back around and propelled him wordlessly in front of her to walk level with Henry. Both she and Henry ignored the entire thing and Norman huffed out a harried breath, his neck on a swivel, looking out for his tormentors in every shadow.

Regina felt her anger flare at the sight but kept it from her face and voice as she continued to chat with Henry about what he had done that day.

“…and then we watched this video about frogs and how they change from spawn, to tadpoles to frogs and Miss Blanchard was telling us about how that was kind of like watching evolution at _super fast_ speeds. Like, tadpoles are kind of the McNuggets of the natural world but frogs can hop away so frogs don’t have to worry about getting munched by anything in the water, they just have to jump out and ribbet on their way.” Henry hopped a few steps to illustrate and Regina smiled.

“Yeah, then they can get eaten by birds and stuff.” Norman drawled in a flat tone and Henry shut down his pessimism.

“But that’s the thing, other frogs have evolved different ways of avoiding getting munched. In the Amazon, all the brightly coloured ones are poisonous or they’re rainbow coloured so they LOOK poisonous and some of them can even fly!” Henry’s enthusiasm had always been infectious and even a tough nut like Norman had to crack eventually.

He smirked.

“Frogs can’t fly.”

“Well they can glide.” Henry frowned like Norman was deliberately trying to ruin his day. “They’ve got real big feet with webbing and they kind of do this,” Henry’s impression of a gliding frog tore a laugh from Regina that even surprised her and Henry grinned broadly at her before continuing, “and then they land whisper soft on the forest floor and hop away.”

“They do this?” Norman did the flying frog dance too and set Regina to laughing again and Henry shook his head.

“No, more like this.” Henry did exactly the same ludicrous dance as far as Regina was concerned but it still made her laugh anyway. Henry stopped and huffed out a breath. He frowned a little. “Come to think of it, Miss Blanchard’s impression was a lot better.”

Regina blinked and immediately thought of Snow White launching into the flying frog dance and threw back her head and laughed. She laughed so hard she had to hold her ribs and Henry looked over at her with concern.

“Sorry. I’m fine. I’m fine.” Regina tried to control her smile and found she couldn’t wipe it from her face completely.

“Man, that sounds awesome. I got to do times tables for an hour this afternoon and then I had to write a stupid report on how toilet paper is made. We’ve never learned anything like evolution.” Norman heaved out a sigh.

“Toilet paper?” Henry wrinkled his nose.

“Missus Cake believes misery builds character.” Norman shrugged and Regina arched a brow at that.

Missus Cake had just added a few more demerits to the already hefty weight loaded against her as far as Regina was concerned.

She followed the boys into the diner at a distinctly more sedate pace, having to use the railing at the side of the steps to help her up and took a moment under the guise of catching her breath to turn and look out at the street. All was quiet on Main Street and she hadn’t the faintest hint of the malevolence that had prowled in their wake the day before.

She frowned. Where was he? Somehow not knowing was worse.

“Mayor Mills?”

Regina spun around when the door jangled open and stilled her pounding heart when she found no one more threatening than Ruby standing in the doorway.

“You okay?”

“What?” Regina frowned. Why wouldn’t she be okay? Ah, that’s right. The whole stabbing thing. “Oh, I’m fine. Just…uh…waiting for the Sheriff.”

“Oh.” Ruby smirked and Regina very nearly growled at herself.

She had been a LOT better at lying up until just a few days ago. What the hell had happened to change that? Surely being truthful with one person, with Henry, couldn’t have ruined her entire skillset.

“We…I…” Regina gave up and shook her head. “Never mind, can I have my usual?”

“Sure thing.” Ruby, still grinning, hustled out of the way and held the door open for Regina when she made to stalk into the diner.

There was a telling lull in the conversation which Regina summarily ignored and made her way straight for the booth that Henry had picked for them. He and Norman had already dumped their school stuff and were pouring over the ice cream menu and light heartedly bickering about which flavour was better.

Regina folded herself into the booth and watched them debate the benefits of honeycomb over caramel with a soft smile on her face.

With such an expression, it was little wonder that Ruby thought she was safe to approach.

“So,” Ruby set the mug of coffee, pot of cream and bowl of sugar lumps down in front of the Mayor, “how’s the recovery coming?”

“Fine.” Regina frowned, not sure what to do with small talk.

“She’s not eating enough.” Henry answered without looking up from the menu.

“Henry!” Regina frowned at him.

“You’re not.” Henry shrugged. “You’re gonna get bony.”

“I will not…never mind.” She turned to Ruby. “I’m fine.”

“You want something to eat then?” Ruby hooked her tray under her arm and whipped out her pad and paper.

“Ice cream!” Henry grinned and it disappeared at Regina’s veto.

“No. We’re having dinner first. I’m not putting up with the two of you on a sugar high without having the option to foist you off on Graham.” Regina rummaged for her files in her purse and began to drag them out again. “And you’re doing homework until the food comes.”

“Mo-OOOM!” Henry came perilously close to a sulk. He subsided mulishly when Regina just arched a brow at him. He thumped down to sit on the bench beside Norman. “Fine. I get to pick desserts.”

“If you can eat it by then.”

“I have a spare ice cream stomach.” Henry informed her primly.

“He’ll have the chicken and bacon burger with sweet potato fries, I’ll have the black and blue pasta and Norman?”

“Uh, I don’t have…”

“Norman will have the same as me.” Henry grinned up at Ruby. “And two cola floats.”

Ruby glanced sideways at Regina before she wrote that down and the Mayor rolled her eyes and looked out the window. Ruby took that as permission and then added as innocently as she could.

“And the Sheriff?”

“Another large coffee, the pepper melt burger and fries.” Regina rattled off the order before she realised the trap and she looked sharply over at Ruby.

The waitress studiously had her head bent to writing down the order, her smile barely visible and it was admirably restrained when she looked up at Regina again.

“That everything?”

“That’s plenty.” Regina’s voice was dark and Ruby hurried back to the comparative safety behind the bar.

“Will you help me with math?” Henry tested the waters carefully and Regina flipped through her paperwork and answered without looking at him.

“Norman can help you if you need it. He spent all afternoon doing math, after all.”

“I’m pretty good at it.” Norman shrugged, he watched Henry pull out his math books and Henry frowned at him.

“You not got any homework?”

“I’m ahead of the rest of the class and I did what I had to do at lunch.” Norman looked faintly embarrassed at everything he hadn’t said.

“Hey, I don’t have friends either, but I still goof off at lunch time.” Henry frowned at him, Norman’s awkwardness bouncing off him harmlessly. “You should come find me at lunch time tomorrow. I’ll bring extra comic books.”

Regina glanced up at them and then back down to her paperwork when Norman gave a non-commital agreement and then they both fell into Henry’s homework. She knew Henry was being deliberately obtuse due to his complete lack of enthusiasm when it came to math, but he made Norman laugh at his antics so she put up with it.

The next few minutes passed calmly enough and Regina lifted her head with no real idea as to why until the diner door swung open and Graham strolled in.

His eyes found hers without missing a beat and he smirked, making a beeline for their table. Regina found herself tensing, her gut twisting when she realised they were in a very public place and that was a distinctly private look on his face.

She watched him approach her, her breath held and finally forced herself to breathe when she realised what she was doing.

Honestly, she wasn’t some lovestruck teenager. She was a woman grown. A queen. She should not be reduced to a flushing idiot by her…husband.

That word dropped heavily in her mind with a clang and she shied away from it, almost glad of the distraction of the man in question dropping down into the booth beside her.

“Hello, pet.”

Regina found herself hemmed in by the arm he slung over the back of the booth and around her shoulders. She turned to tell him to back off but was cut off by his mouth crushing against hers for a searing and addling moment.

“Uh…hello.” Was all she could muster and his grin told her that she was blushing as fiercely as she thought she was.

“Lads.” Graham turned and nodded to Henry and Norman, his gaze landing on the second boy for a long moment. “You must be Norman. Pleased to meet you, I’m Graham.”

“Hi.” Norman took Graham’s hand a little hesitantly and was glad that Graham’s handshake wasn’t nearly so enthusiastic as Henry’s had been.

“Have you ordered already?” Graham turned his attention back to Regina.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat and tried to ignore the staring.

People had known, of course they had known, but this was the first time that the general public had actually witnessed the Mayor and the Sheriff acting as a proper couple. In front of her son and everything.

“Good, I’m starved.” Graham wriggled out of his jacket and dumped it on top of hers in the corner of the booth. “How you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Graham’s gaze seemed to get heavier and she elaborated.

“It still hurts but I’m not as drugged as I usually am to deal with it.” Regina shot a glance at Henry. “I even ordered something fattening for dinner as I am apparently becoming ‘bony’.”

Graham looked at her for a long moment.

“In the interests of not having to sleep on the couch, I refrain from comment.”

“Smart move.” Regina noted and he shared in her smirk.

She looked away from him when she realised what she was doing. She felt like the entire planet was staring at her. She wasn’t used to being put on display like this and she hated it. She felt like a piece of meat at auction and the last time she’d been at the mercy of such a sensation it had been the day her mother had paraded her in front of the king. Therein her life had taken a turn for the worse.

“Stay here with us.” Graham leaned into her and murmured in a voice only she could hear.

His arm squeezed about her shoulders briefly and Regina was surprised to note that –instead of feeling trapped- she was actually soothed by the feeling. She looked over at the boys to try and ground herself a little more firmly and smiled at their conversation.

“Soccer? Why do you have a book on soccer?” Norman held the book that had been sticking out of Henry’s bag.

“I’m gonna join the team.” Henry caught his tongue between his teeth and tried to think on a reason that long division was a skill he would need later in life.

“Why?” Norman looked a little horrified.

“Mom says that I need something to do outside. There’s no fencing team. This is all I got.” Henry didn’t look up from his sums, he just had four more.

“But…team sports? You could turn into a jock.”

“Only if someone hits me on the head with a rock and I suddenly get as dumb as a box of hair.” Henry snorted. He finished the last few sums and looked up at his…friend. He grinned when he realised that was what they were. “You should join up with me. I think, between the two of us, we could double their intelligence.”

Norman blinked at him, surprised by the invitation and then snorted.

“Triple more like.”

“Your boys are snobs.” Graham murmured.

“They’re not both mine.” Regina spoke at length and Graham snorted.

“According to who?” She looked at him sharply and he just arched an eyebrow at her. “You forget that I know what you look like when you stake a claim on something. Woe betide anyone who tries to hurt Norman now.”

Regina inhaled deeply and looked away from him, not dignifying that with a response.

“I don’t know anything about soccer.” Norman decided after a moment.

“I think a lot of it has to do with taking a dive and having fantastic hair. I think yours is already suitably gravity defying.” Henry grinned at Norman and the other boy laughed.

“Yours is really boring.” Norman decided. “All flat and everything.”

“It can be exciting!” Henry lifted his hands and scrubbed them enthusiastically through his hair. It stood up rumpled for a moment and then settled down into a decidedly flatter style. Henry huffed out a sigh. “Okay, if I had hair gel, it could be exciting.”

Norman chuckled quietly and looked back down at the book in his hands. He frowned and scrunched his nose when he flipped through the pages.

“What the heck is ‘offside’ supposed to be?”

“No idea. I think it’s like the trigonometry of the soccer world.” Henry flipped his math book shut, done for the day and stuffed it back into his bag. “Something to do with other players getting in the way of your goal.”

“Oh. I thought that was the basic point.” Norman didn’t look impressed. “The shirts can be pretty cool. Look at this, it’s purple.”

Both boys fell into oohing and ahhing over the soccer uniforms from around the world and Regina found herself leaning into Graham’s side.

“This is almost domestic.” Graham noted and she huffed a breath of a laugh.

“Almost.” Some part of her was screaming to sit up straight god damn it whilst the other, louder, part was insisting that leaning against him soothed her wounds and to hell what everyone else thought. Regina had ever been one to fly in the face of public opinion.

She settled deeper into Graham’s loose embrace. He turned to her and pressed a kiss to her temple. She let out a slow sigh.

“You can’t have forgotten.”

Forgotten all the pain. All the horror she had visited upon him. The cage of her power closing tighter and ever tighter about him over the years. He would never forget and he could never forgive and –now- her soul was tied to his and she would feel his pain over it for the rest of her life.

“No, I haven’t, but I do remember. I remember everything. The good as well as the bad and –recently- those times far outweighed the others. You let me in when you thought I wouldn’t remember. You changed, became a different person. I’ll not lose her. Not to anything. Not even your guilt.” Graham’s voice was muffled against her hair and he pulled away only when Ruby arrived with their meal.

She set the food down in front of them with a flourish and Regina steadfastly ignored her ear to ear grin at the way Graham had been wrapped around Regina.

“Meat.” Graham gave a growl of approval and Regina made a production of rolling her eyes at the carnivores surrounding her.

“Meat!”

“MEAT!”

Henry and Norman mimicked him, drawing a bemused smile from the Sheriff and they all fell on their burgers with a ravenous hunger that could only have been put on for her amusement.

Regina, for her part, daintily picked at her pasta and watched them all devour their dinners in record time.

The rest of the meal passed in relative peace and –as Regina predicted- both boys were lolled back against the bench of the booth complaining about how stuffed they were by the time Ruby arrived to take their plates away.

“Nnnnggh! I still want ice cream.” Henry laboured to sit up straight despite his full stomach.

“You’ll pop.” Regina smirked.

“I will not!”

“Like a weasel.” Regina smirked and sipped her fresh coffee. She did feel better after that ridiculous meal of fat and carbs.

“Eww.” Norman wrinkled his nose and propped his elbows on the table. “Thank you very much for dinner. It was delicious.”

“You are very much welcome.” Regina smiled. “You’re still not getting ice cream.”

Henry chuckled despite Norman’s alarmed look at the thought that he had appeared to be begging.

“She’s kidding.” Henry grinned at the other boy. “She’ll cave.”

“She can hear you.” Regina reminded him.

“When is the baker woman getting here?” Graham, having devoured his entire dinner with distinctly more ease than his much smaller counterparts drained his coffee cup and tried to work up the enthusiasm to go back to work.

“She’s not a baker.” Regina reminded him. He shrugged as if such details were beneath him and Regina continued doggedly. “She’ll be here any minute if Miss Blanchard keeps her word.”

“Can we not be here when that happens?” Henry asked hopefully. He’d _heard_ of Missus Cake and had absolutely zero desire to see her in person.

“You’re going for a haircut.” Regina told him and looked to Norman. “Then you can both come back for ice cream.”

“Told you.” Henry grinned at Norman and he returned it a little nervously.

Regina rolled her eyes and turned to Graham.

“Will you drop them off on your way back to the station?”

“Sure.” Graham nodded. “I’ve just got the shift handover to Emma then I have to run a couple of errands. I should be done by the time he’s been shorn.”

He stood and pulled on his jacket.

“Come on, lads, let’s leave the great and terrible Mayor to scare the stuffing out of the baker woman.”

Henry and Norman piled out of the booth and scooped up their own jackets, electing to leave their bags for later though Henry kept his soccer book. They chattered inanely to one another and Regina smiled at the sight. Her little boy had a friend. She stilled when Graham leaned down over her and bracketed her in with a hand on the table and the other on the back of the booth.

“Don’t exert yourself.”

“Like this is the first time I’ve chewed out a principal and a teacher.” Regina glared at his lack of faith.

“I’m just saying, don’t get yourself overly worked up. I expect you to be in one piece when I get back.”

“Somehow I’ll survive without you for an hour.” She drawled at him.

“See that you do.”

Regina was caught off guard –again- by the searing kiss he pressed to her mouth before he straightened away from her and turned back to herd the boys out of the door of the diner. She watched them all go and then rounded fiercely on Ruby when she was aware of the waitress’ hovering.

“ _What_?”

“Stand down,” Ruby held up a hand as if to ward Regina off, “just giving you a refill.”

Regina subsided a little when Ruby just leaned over and poured more coffee into her empty mug.

“I take it you’re waiting on the family’s return before ordering dessert?”

_Family_.

Regina gulped at the word and managed a wordless nod. She mustered a smile from somewhere and looked up at Ruby.

“Two more cups, please. I’m expecting company.”

“Ah, Missus Cake about to get her just desserts, is she?” Ruby looked positively gleeful. “About time.”

Regina frowned.

“Hey, I remember her from when _I_ was in fifth grade and she was a horrible battle-axe then too. Feel free to cast her down into the tenth level of hell on behalf of everyone who hates math and toilet paper as a result of her teachings.” Ruby winked at her and then took herself off to find more cups and saucers for the unfortunate coffee companions of the Mayor’s.

Missus Cake might be terrifying but Ruby couldn’t wait to see what happened when the immovable object of Missus Cake went up against Regina’s unstoppable force.

At the very least, it should be interesting.

Regina frowned after Ruby. That had been an almost pleasant exchange and Regina was a little at a loss to explain it. She hadn’t done anything to warrant such affection. She hadn’t changed…had she?

Regina was saved from her introspection by the door to the diner flying open with enough force to send the little bell overhead spiralling off and flying clean over the bar to nearly hit Ruby on the other side.

Mary Margaret flew into the diner at full pelt and raced across it, slithering to a halt only when she belatedly realised that Regina was sitting there. She backed up a few steps, chest heaving with every breath and pointed towards the door still swinging closed.

“Delivered as promised.” She wheezed and then bolted out of the back of the diner. Regina watched her go with a frown and even she jumped when the door was flung wildly open a second time hard enough to batter the coat stand completely over and send coats sprawling everywhere.

Regina’s brows rose when who could only be Missus Cake rolled into the diner on an avalanche of her own ill mood.

The woman was huge. She had to be taller than even Graham, broader too. She had the look of a woman who ate children for breakfast not imparted knowledge on them.

Actually that wasn’t true, Regina had personally met women that cannibalised children and none of them had seemed so monstrous.

Missus Cake’s gimlet glare swept over the diner like a raptor in search of prey and she narrowed her eyes when she saw the doorway leading to the back of the diner and the backdoor beyond. With great clomping steps, Missus Cake strode into the diner, making a beeline after her intended target.

Her massive steel toecapped boots actually squeaked when she was forced to grind to a halt when the comparatively tiny Mayor was in her way.

“Ah, you must be Missus Cake. A mere three minutes late for your appointment.” Regina smiled up at her. She did not offer her hand and she did not introduce herself. “Please, take a seat.”

“Not right now, I’m bus…”

“Sit _down_ , Missus Cake.” Regina’s smile never left her face but it became distinctly more…dangerous.

“Listen, woman…” Missus Cake tried to steamroll over Regina just as she did everyone else but Regina had commanded armies. She had taken over the known world, destroyed dreams, cast the Dark Curse and done all of that in five inch heels and a corset.

Missus Cake was going to have to do a lot better than try the speak-louder-not-smarter argument.

“That would be ‘Madame Mayor’ to you,” Regina spoke from behind bared teeth, “and you shall sit down before I make you sit down.”

Missus Cake blinked down at her. This tiny pink wafer of a human being was giving her an order. What was worse, she genuinely did not appear to be frightened of her in the slightest. She stood, her tiny hands folded together in front of her, that same sharp smile on her face and the glint in her eye that spoke of the utter surety that she was going to be obeyed.

Missus Cake found herself being herded into the booth with nothing more than the Mayor’s eyes on hers. She folded down to sit there with no real idea as to why her survival instinct was howling in the back of her head that this woman was a half inch from killing her over a ten metre radius and a period of months.

“Wonderful.” Regina smiled still and then glanced over at the table one over from her booth.

A harried looking Principal Cruller hurried out of his seat and forced Missus Cake to scoot over when he sat beside her. His only other choice was sitting next to Regina and he had absolutely no desire to do that at all.

“Now,” Regina took her own seat once more and laced her fingers together on top of the table, “shall we begin?”

 

_**The Barber’s…** _

 

“This is where your mum brings you?” Graham swung into the hair salon after Henry, aware that Norman was still bringing up the rear, and looked about himself.

His keen senses were assaulted by the chemical scent of shampoos and conditioners, the smell of cooking hair and the noise of those giant beehive hairdryer things that seemed to a mainstay in salons everywhere. Graham wrinkled his nose a little and almost wished he was back in Regina’s meeting.

“Yeah, every month or so. Whenever I ‘need a trim’.” Henry grinned when a titian haired woman sashayed across the salon towards him. “Hiya, Delilah.”

“Henry, honey!” Delilah, apparently, bent at the waist and engulfed Henry in a voluminous hug that lifted him clean off the floor. “I haven’t seen you in weeks! How is your mom doing?”

“She’s better. She’s even kinda back to work now.” Henry looked a little windswept once he was set down again but mostly fine. He grinned up at Delilah and Graham was suddenly aware of why he didn’t fight having his haircut like most boys his age would.

Delilah, was beautiful. Tall, taller than Graham in her heels, masses and masses of blood red hair, milky pale complexion, stunning silvery blue eyes, features Rembrandt would have given his left bollock to paint and figure of such generous femininity that Graham felt he was perhaps letting red blooded men everywhere down by not panting like a dog at her.

Well, Graham’s mouth twisted, she was nice enough but she was no Regina.

Graham huffed out a slow breath when he realised what he had just thought. He was so ridiculously wrapped around his little wife’s finger that he was going to be in REAL trouble if she ever figured out that the connection went both ways.

Yes, Delilah was _nice_ but Regina was _his_.

A wicked and dangerous female of equal predatory prowess to his own.

“Already?”

“Well, she’s chewing somebody out in the diner. I figure that’s about as strenuous as she’s gonna get for a while.” Henry grinned up at Delilah. She chuckled and shook her head, all of that red hair billowing everywhere.

“Henry, you precocious little thing!” Delilah’s smile became somewhat fixed when she noticed Graham looming by the doorway. She straightened up in a hurry. “Sheriff Humbert? What brings you here?”

“Just dropping off the lads.” Graham waved to include Norman. “As he says, his mum’s in a meeting and I have a prior engagement. They’re going to be in your hands for a while, if that’s alright?”

Graham’s tone made it clear that the question was rhetorical but Delilah didn’t cave immediately.

“So the rumours are true?”

Graham tilted his head and Delilah glanced at Henry before continuing.

“You and the Mayor have finally gone public.”

Graham exhaled a slow breath through his nose and nodded curtly. Once.

“I knew it!” Delilah crowed a laugh and snapped her fingers. “Granny owes me free dinners for a week.”

Graham arched a brow but he sensed there was no malice to the woman’s amusement. Which would be a rarity if he knew anything about anything in this town. Between the two of them, Regina and himself could be just about disliked by everyone at once in Storybrooke.

“You made a bet on my mom?” Henry demanded and let himself be helped out of his jacket so Delilah could hang it up on the hook by the door. She even took Norman’s.

“No, honey, I put my money where my mouth was. There’s a slight difference. You hear a LOT of gossip in this modest little shack. I simply put money down on a sure thing. I saw the way your mom and the Sheriff look at one another.”

“And Granny bet against us?” Graham was intrigued. Surprised that the old woman could be so wrong.

“Not exactly, she said neither of you would ever come out and admit you were together. Feel free to go back and tell her that you did so to me and I’ll be over to collect after I’ve finished for the day.” Delilah grinned wickedly and winked.

Graham smirked and nodded his head.

“Well, I believe that’s my cue. Behave, lads. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Oh, wait, what am I doing with him?” Delilah tousled Henry’s hair and Graham looked back with a frown.

“Whatever he wants, I suppose. I’ll settle up when I get back.” Graham nodded to her and then disappeared out of the door.

Delilah watched him go with pursed lips and an appreciative tilt of her head. She shook herself after a moment and then turned back to her young charges.

“So, short back and sides?”

Henry’s mouth twisted and then pulled into a wicked grin.

“Actually, I was thinking something more like this.” Henry flipped through the pages of the soccer book and then held it out to Delilah. She frowned.

“I don’t think…”

“Graham said I could get whatever I wanted.” Henry reminded her gently and continued in an innocent tone. “Also, mom’s been looking to treat me to something since I got so scared that she nearly died. Apparently spoiling me is going to make up for it.” Henry shrugged as if the reasoning was beyond him. “So I’d like this, please.”

Henry pointed to the picture again and Delilah took the book from him and studied it. She bit her lip and glanced up at him.

The Mayor was going to _kill_ her.

“I don’t think I have this exact shade in stock.” She hedged.

“Just so long as it’s blue.” Henry beamed at her. “Mom’s favourite colour is blue.”

Delilah sighed. Well…the Sheriff had said to give the boy what he wanted…and that was going to be Delilah’s story and she was damn well going to stick to it.

“Alright, hop in the chair. We’d better get going if I only have an hour.”

Henry fist pumped, high fived Norman –who was gaping at the other boy’s boldness- and made a dash for the chair.

His mom was going to flip her lid.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 – Family**

 

_**High Above the Town…** _

 

Graham slithered to a halt in the shade of the trees and cast about himself. 

Where were they?

Cupping his hands to his mouth, he howled again and waited for an answer. 

He’d made arrangements to meet the wolves of Storybrooke half a mile back and he’d seen hide nor hair of them. He couldn’t seem to raise them by howling either. 

This was odd. Wolves didn’t lie. If they’d said they were going to be there then they’d be there. 

He was beginning to worry. 

Graham tilted his head back and sniffed deeply. Inhaling the sharp pine scents of the forest, the damp loamy smell of the earth, the wet of encroaching rain. He could smell animals of course, deer, fox, squirrel, but no wolf. 

Then he caught it. 

Blood. 

Graham took off running at his top speed which was a fair clip indeed. He hurdled fallen logs and streams, bounded over gnarled roots and raced between the trees. He pelted hell for leather right through the waist high ferns, uncaring that he was crashing around like a blind buck and bounded out into the clearing where the wolves had made their den for the night. 

“Gods…” 

Graham’s eyes went wide and his legs suddenly seemed not to work anymore. He staggered towards the nearest body and fell to his knees before he reached it. He crawled to the first piece of the first fallen wolf and hesitantly touched it. 

She had been the beta female, he didn’t question how he knew, he just did. She had seen the attacker first. She would have snarled a warning and her hackles would have risen and…and she would have died first. 

There was so much _blood_.

It painted the forest floor, arcing and wheeling up over the trees twice as tall as Graham stood. Great sweeping motions raking through the pack. Cleaving them into bloodied pieces to fall lifeless to the ground. Some of them with the snarls and yelps of terror still frozen on their faces.

The Woodcutter. 

He had known, he had heard. Somehow he had found the wolves that Graham had called on to be allies and he had _massacred_ them. 

Graham became aware that he was being watched. Lifting his head, he looked up into the black eyes of the nearest crow. An entire murder of them crowded the branches overhead.  
They didn’t call to one another. Didn’t squall and bicker over the choicest pieces of carrion they just sat there. Lining the branches, watching him mutely. 

Bearing witness. 

Graham realised belatedly that they had been waiting on…him. 

They hadn’t dared feed until he had seen what had happened. They hadn’t torn at the carcasses until he’d had the chance to come and pay his respects. 

That was how heinous it was. 

The land itself rebelled against such senseless slaughter. The crows looked down with the hunger of vengeance in their eyes, not of flesh. The forest was silent, not even the wind spoke. The trees seemed to thrum with their disapproval. Even here, in this world without magic, there were things that were not done. 

The slaughtering of wolves, of predators made prey, was one of them.

Graham looked back to the wolves and he felt the grief tear at him anew.

There had been eight of them, a sizeable pack, they had fought well but they had died horribly. 

There was no blood from the Woodcutter, there wouldn’t be. He was a spectre. Nothing more than a monster. 

Nothing less either. 

Graham held the beta female’s head as his bowed and his forehead touched against hers. Her beautiful fur matted with blood, she reeked of the terror of her last moments of living and Graham’s stomach heaved. 

She had been _prey_. 

It was abhorrent to him. 

He became aware of the growl snarling up out of him, of the horror, of the rage, that needed to be anywhere but inside him because if it stayed it would tear him apart. He felt his hands set her head to the ground, felt his arms shake, felt his lips peel back over his teeth and he _roared_.

His back arched, his head thrown back and he surged to his feet as if pulled by the force of his voice. It was not a howl, it was not a scream, it was an anguished enraged outpouring of feeling that rang out through the trees and echoed across the entire valley. 

Graham howled until his voice cracked, he howled until his lungs burned, he howled until he fell to his knees and couldn’t howl anymore. Until he couldn’t even stand. 

Then he crouched there, on his hands and knees, listening to the sounds of his own panting breaths sobbing in and out of his chest and then…a whimper not his own. 

Graham was on his feet in an instant, his lips peeled back over his teeth in a feral growl so fierce that not even a grizzly would have challenged him.

He scanned the clearing, ignoring the stink of death and fear, ignoring the red painting everything, and tried to zero in on the sound. 

There! 

Graham turned and inhaled again. He snorted and shook his head. He couldn’t smell anything other than the blood. Couldn’t see anything other than the red and then…the alpha female. 

She moved. 

Graham bounded across the clearing and crouched by her crumpled body, he hesitated a half moment and then his hands came down onto her, searching for signs of life. 

He snatched them away when he found her cold. She was as dead as the others. 

But that whimper again. 

Graham gripped her body by the scruff and gently pulled her away. She had died against a tree, the massacred remains of her body slumped against it, her blood and worse littering the ground. It took several moments for Graham to try and scoop her into the semblance of one piece and pull her away from…her den. 

The whimpers became more frantic and Graham lowered himself so he could see into the hollow of the ancient tree. Four huddled little bundles of fluff cowered at the back of the den. Four wolf pups. 

Survivors.

Graham’s grin was a slash of sharp white in his face and he chuffed a low greeting. 

He reached in without thinking, without thinking as a wolf, and snatched his hand back with a laughing curse when one of the pups sank his teeth into the gumline in Graham’s hand. He shook the hurt from it and managed something of a smirk at his own foolishness. 

Of course they’d bite. Their mother would have taught them well the fear of man. 

Graham growled a low word in wolf and lowered himself to his belly, crawling right into the den with them. 

The lead pup, the eldest, puffed himself up and barked a feeble little warning. 

They were young, so young, their eyes barely open and they still tottered when they moved but they were still wolves. 

Graham, without missing a beat, lifted one hand and batted the pup over. It yelped, sent tumbling and ended up belly up on the floor of the den. 

Graham growled again, a command, and the other pups looked at him with eyes so wide and young they were still blue. He pinned the eldest pup down when it made to flip up onto its four and come at him again. He leaned in close, nose to nose, and snarled a low and terrible rumble until the pup whined and relaxed onto his back, paws in the air. 

Graham snorted, that was more like it. 

With a gruff command, Graham backed up out of the den, filthy and covered in mud, blood and other less savoury things. He shook himself, like he had fur that needed settling, and waited patiently on his new charges to come tottering out of the den. 

They looked to the dead husk that had been their mother, whining, not understanding. They butted at her sides, trying to rouse her and Graham growled again and they turned to him. Whimpering and seeking some comfort in the bloodbath that had been their family. 

Graham let them bumble their way over to him, huddling under the shadow of his body and Graham waited until even the mulish eldest slunk beneath him. He let them absorb his scent, let them know him as a friend, and then he stood. 

They yelped, staring up at him with wide eyes, and he growled again, reminding them he was the same wolf that they had just seen. They were so small and their minds so simple still that it was easy to make them understand.

Their family was gone.

He was their family now. 

Once he was certain they understood, he crouched low and gathered all of them up into his arms. They squirmed, unaccustomed to being carried with their siblings and more than a little terrified at the prospect of being so far off the ground, but they settled when he rumbled something reassuring to them. 

Graham turned, to head back to his truck, and stilled. 

Animals. 

He was surrounded by animals. 

Deer, foxes, squirrels, rabbits, yet more birds, even a mountain lion surrounded the clearing. They all watched him with a steady and unblinking stare.

“I’ll fix it.” Graham knew what they wanted. “I’ll drive him away from here.” 

They didn’t move, not even when he walked towards and through them. They turned, continuing to watch him and he half turned back to them. 

“Eat,” he told the crows, “that is our way.” 

Then he turned and walked away, the pups quiet and afraid in his arms. He heard the calling of the crows, the clapping of their wings as they descended on what had been a fierce and proud family. 

It sounded like applause at a funeral. 

Graham looked down at the pups and mustered something of a smile for them. They didn’t understand the expression but they whimpered and seemed to understand what he meant anyway. 

They were filthy. He was filthy. Covered in blood, gore, mud and a stink that could only have come from death. 

He thought about how he couldn’t abandon them. They’d have to come home with him.

Regina was going to kill him.

 

_**Granny’s…** _

 

Regina sat back in her booth and watched Missus Cake clomp angrily from the diner. The door slamming shut behind her to be opened meekly by Principal Cruller so he could make good his escape. 

Regina lifted her coffee mug to sip from it and hide her smirk. That had been _good_.

She hadn’t been afforded the chance to be awful to someone in days and then she’d gotten to tear a strip out of someone truly vile who had done more than enough to deserve her ire. 

Misery built character indeed! Regina had seen fit to instruct the good Missus Cake on her own doctrine. Let’s see how much she wanted character building when it came with the added bonus of a pay cut and no parking space. 

To start with.

Regina huffed out a breath to herself and glanced at her watch. She frowned when she saw that it was after six. Both Graham and the boys should be back by now. She’d been so absorbed in sadistically bringing chaos to order that she’d completely lost track of time.

Where _were_ they?

Regina turned to her purse and began to rummage. She hauled out her phone after a moment of industrious digging and checked the screen. No calls. No messages. She frowned. 

They really should have been back by now. 

Regina levered herself to her feet and regretted it when she remembered why she couldn’t sit still for too long. It caused her stitches to tighten and her chest to seize up. Regina hissed out a slow breath and eased herself fully upright. She ignored the glances her way and was given the excuse not to try any of that walking nonsense when Ruby appeared in front of her. 

“Here.” She took Regina’s hand when she didn’t immediately move to accept the glass of water and wrapped her fingers around it. “They in here?” Ruby picked up Regina’s purse and began to root through it.

“What are you doing?!” 

“Helping.” Ruby dumped Regina’s purse onto the table with a thud from its contents and wrinkled her nose when she squinted at the tiny writing on the pill bottle. “Two, huh? Here you go.” 

Regina looked down at the two pills in Ruby’s hand and finally accepted them from her. Only because she needed to take them anyway, she assured herself.

“You’ve been talking to Graham, haven’t you?” Regina accused her and knocked back the pills, gulping down the water to wash away the chalky taste. 

“He might have mentioned something about keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t happen to anyone.” 

Regina arched a brow. 

“Paraphrasing a little.” Ruby smirked at her and then began to clear the abandoned cups and saucers from the table. She shrugged when Regina continued to watch her. “He’s worried about  you. You gave us all quite a scare.” 

“I had no idea that being stabbed would have made me so likeable. If I’d known that was all it took, I’d have taken two a.m. walks more often.” 

“Don’t let the Sheriff hear you joking like that. He’ll throw someone else out and we just got the window replaced.” Ruby clattered everything onto a tray and straightened up, frowning at Regina’s mystified expression. 

“What window?” 

“You don’t…? Oh, I am so completely not going to be the person to tell you.” Ruby’s eyes went wide and she tried to escape to the bar but Regina followed after her.

She was upright now, she might as well walk some of the stiffness off.

“Miss Lucas, the window?” 

“It’s really nothing. Not even worth mentioning.” Ruby hedged and Regina propped herself up against the bar, setting her glass of water down. 

“Then why mention it?” 

“Because…reasons.” Ruby shrugged. “It was really nothing.” 

“He threw Leroy headlong out the front door. Didn’t even open it first.” Granny spoke gruffly and Regina froze, her glass of water halfway to her mouth. 

She blinked and her lips twitched. 

She looked away from them and tried to control her smile but it pulled at both sides of her mouth until even her eyes crinkled with it and a cough of a chuckle escaped her. 

“Leroy…” Regina bit her lip and looked up at the ceiling a moment, trying to muster her control. She looked over at the door. “Out that door?” 

“Poor bastard’s feet didn’t even touch the ground.” Granny slapped her dishrag on the bar and planted her hands on her hips. “Completely shattered the glass.” 

“Do you have security footage?” Regina’s mouth was still trying to smile and she was desperately trying to control it but it was a losing battle. 

“Planning on erasing the evidence?” Granny frowned. 

“Are you kidding? I’m going to put it on youtube.” Regina murmured mostly to herself and forced a drink of water before she gave into the desire to laugh until she was sick. She distracted herself instead. “Why?”

“Why what?” 

“Why did our good and mild mannered Sheriff throw someone headlong out a window?” 

“Well, Madame Mayor, I do believe it’s because he’s anything but good and mild mannered when you’re involved.” Granny huffed out a breath. “He was like a grizzly with a toothache the entire time you were in the hospital.”

“Leroy didn’t exactly help when he came stomping in here and asked when you were gonna die.” Ruby looked sideways at Granny and hunched her shoulders when the older woman glared at her. “What? I’d have punched him too if he’d had said that about you!”

“He punched him?” Regina blinked. “Then threw him?” 

“No, it was more of a punch that launched him out the door.” Ruby nodded to herself. She hunched her shoulders. “Sheriff’s stronger than he even looks.” 

“Girl, I do believe the Mayor knows that.” Granny spoke quietly and ignored the arched eyebrow it earned her from said Mayor.

“Yes, well…” Regina had no idea where to go with that and very much wanted the conversation over now that she couldn’t laugh about Leroy. 

“You suit one another.” 

Regina looked up in surprise at Granny. 

“You do.” Granny shrugged, gruff and unrepentant. “It’s also about time that you came out and admitted it. Oh, you thought I didn’t know the reason for all those four hour room rentals?”

Regina straightened her chin kicking up. 

“I’m not ashamed.” 

“If my man looked like the Sheriff, I wouldn’t be either.” Granny snorted and –with that- disappeared back down the bar to take an order from another patron. 

Regina narrowed her eyes and watched her go. She looked back to Ruby when she moved. 

“So,” the waitress canted forward and caught herself on her elbows and propped her chin in her hands, “when’s the wedding?” 

Regina’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and she stared at Ruby a long moment before managing to curb it and form sentences like a functioning human being. 

“You know something I don’t?”

“Oh, come on, the Sheriff already acts like he’s your husband. Humour me. Tell me all about how you two are gonna get hitched.” 

“We are not…”

“It’s inevitable. Everyone knows it’s gonna happen just as soon as he can talk you around.” Ruby grinned mischievously and Regina was almost tempted to inform her that the ‘wedding’ had already been and gone. “I’d be super surprised if he didn’t already have a ring. Search his pockets next time you have the chance, you’ll find it.” 

Regina rolled her eyes and looked away from Ruby. She sipped her water and wondered if she’d just go away if Regina just ignored her long enough. Some hope. 

“Come oooonnn, you might as well not be bored until the menfolk come back to collect you.” 

Regina watched the door for a long moment. Hoping that it would magically open and Graham would arrive to rescue her. She frowned at that thought, she’d never needed rescuing in the past. Well, that wasn’t true, but she had managed to survive regardless. Now was no different.

She should just say something cutting and shoot Miss Lucas’ advances down. They weren’t friends, they didn’t like each other, the only reason that Ruby was being friendly was likely at Graham’s request…though Graham did like Ruby. 

Regina glanced over at the younger woman. Now that was a snag. He’d be upset and embarrassed if Regina spurned Ruby just because she could. 

Regina huffed out a breath and levered herself up onto the barstool. 

“I despise weddings.” 

Ruby grinned almost ear to ear. 

“But would you? If he asked. Granny’s right, you guys totally –I dunno- complete one another. At least, you seem to be in a better mood and less…bitey when the other is around.” 

“Bitey?” Regina huffed a chuckle, brows raised.

“Sure, you can be all snappy and Graham can be all growly but you two are just nicer when you’re near each other.”

“Has it really been that obvious?” Regina asked slowly. 

Just how much of the curse was breaking down if people were beginning to realise that she had been all over the Sheriff at every opportunity and vice versa for the last twenty eight years? She’d never had to be subtle because nobody remembered anything. If they started to remember…oh, the Christmas party and the copier machine.

The Sheriff’s station.

The Town Hall. 

The bandstand. 

Oh god, the _fountain_!

“Only to someone with, you know, a pulse.” Ruby grinned. “Don’t look so worried. Folks in this town need something to gossip about. Up until now, it’s been about you living in sin and apparently enjoying it immensely. Now it’s all about when you’re going to make an honest man out of him.”

“I’m glad we’ve been such a ready source of entertainment.” Regina murmured. 

“And money. I won fifty bucks because you two came out in June.”

Regina blinked at that and Ruby laughed. 

“So, tell me, is it gonna be a biiiig white dress affair with everyone invited or something a little more private with just a couple of witnesses?”

“Private.” Regina answered at length. Deciding it cost her nothing to play along. “Despite being Mayor, I prefer as little pomp with my circumstance as possible.”

“You do seem pretty closed off sometimes.” Ruby thought out loud. “Which is a shame because –now that we’re talking- you seem kind of nice.” 

“Careful, that sounded dangerously close to being a compliment.” Regina sipped from her water and wondered when she could politely excuse herself from this conversation.

She’d never had to play along to keep up appearances before and it was still a little beyond her as to why she would be doing it now.

“See? You’re even being funny.” Ruby waved a hand at her and grinned. “What kind of dress? Big and froofy and white or a slinky kind of sheath thing?” 

“I hardly qualify for white.” Regina noted mildly and Ruby laughed again. Regina was a little mystified as to why. She wasn’t trying to be funny.

“It’s your wedding. You can wear white if you want to. Nobody will complain.”

“Thank heavens, for public opinion has ever been so important to me.” 

“Yeah, that’s weird. I mean, for a politician you don’t seem to care at all if people like you or not. You should be a lot more, I dunno, smarmy I suppose.” 

Regina tilted her head and smirked. 

“I don’t have to be likeable so long as I am useful. The people of this town know that no one else will run it with the same efficiency as I and nobody else really wants to. People want tomorrow to be very much like today. I make that happen. That’s job security enough.” 

“I never thought of it that way.” 

“Well, it isn’t your job to, Miss Lucas.” 

“You should call me Ruby. Everyone else does.” 

“I am not everyone else.” 

“Really? None of us had picked up on that.” Ruby mocked surprise and Regina chuckled.

She blinked when she realised this conversation had moved on from her simply humouring Ruby to her actually enjoying the other woman’s company. Regina toyed with the condensation on her water glass and mulled that over. 

“What about flowers? What are your favourite flowers?” Ruby would not be dissuaded from her nuptial theme it seemed. 

Regina blinked, opened her mouth to lie and then decided against it. 

“I don’t have one. I’ve never really cared for flowers.”

“Really? Not even the prerequisite dozen roses?” 

“They last a few days and then wither and die. It always seemed…sad to me.” Regina shrugged then smiled a little when she remembered something that Graham had done years ago.

“Graham brought me a fruit bouquet once.” 

“Fruit bouquet?” Ruby leaned forward again. Officially interested. 

“Hmm, slices and pieces of fruit arranged much like a florist would arrange flowers. There were slices of mango and orange segments, strawberries dipped in chocolate and crescents of melon and about five hundred other fruits all piled up together. It took the three of us to eat it. Graham, Henry and I.” 

“Oh, so…Henry’s always known?” 

“No.” Regina shook her head and realised how much she was actually telling Ruby. Damn it. She should have just said that she liked roses or something. “Henry was…two. I doubt he remembers it.” 

“Why’d you hide it from him?” Ruby tilted her head and spoke again when Regina studied her water glass intently. “We can talk about the weather if you’d rather but maybe it would be nice for you to have a friend, huh?” 

Regina’s eyes rose to look at Ruby and she arched a brow. 

“Just a thought.” Ruby hunched her shoulders in an innocent shrug and Regina was surprised to notice that she actually meant it. 

“The reasons seem rather…foolish now.” Regina shrugged a shoulder and smirked. “Especially considering that Henry has apparently known for quite some time. You’d think, as a politician, that I would be a better liar.”

“Maybe you’re just a rubbish politician. Ooh! You could come and work here.” Ruby snapped her fingers as if the thought had just occurred to her. “I hear that your lasagne is wicked good. You and Granny could have a lasagne-off. You know, like a bake off but with Italian.” 

“I wouldn’t want to tread on your grandmother’s toes.” 

“Hmm, that’s true. She’s got a bad habit of treading back.” Ruby grinned. “Seriously though, if you could do anything, what would it be?”

Regina blinked when she realised she had no answer. Not that she didn’t want to answer but that she just didn’t know. Her entire life had been mapped out from her from a young age. She had grown up in a world where the best she could hope for was to be married to a man that would tolerate hobbies suiting to a lady. Riding had been borderline, some men would have tolerated it but others would have not. 

There had been a time when all she had wanted was to be a stablehand’s wife but that had been so long ago and she had become so different to that naïve girl that should couldn’t imagine herself taking such a…small role. 

“A riding school.” Regina spoke without fully meaning to and smirked when she realised that the truth had been easier than a lie for the second time in five minutes. “I’d open a riding school.” 

“Really?”

Regina’s eyes darted to Ruby’s expecting a scoff of derision but found Ruby’s grin to be delighted instead. 

“I didn’t know you could ride. I’m so jealous. I always wanted to, but horses don’t seem to like me very much.” 

Regina smirked when she realised that would be the werewolf shining through. Even here under the curse, the horses would not be fooled. Regina had not been lying when she’d said that animals were not so easily fooled as all that. 

“I’m sure there’s a horse out there for you.” 

“Really?” Ruby straightened up. “You’d teach me?” 

“Uh…” Regina was caught completely off guard. Well, that had taken an unexpected turn. “It’s not something easily learned. It takes a lot of commitment and patience.” 

“I can do it.” Ruby nodded. “I’ve not really got anything else to do in this town and it’d be fun to learn something new. Will you? Teach me, I mean.”  
Regina hesitated and Ruby wheedled. 

“Go on, think of this as practice for when you retire from politics and can finally open that riding school of yours.” 

Regina was trapped for a moment and was saved literally by the bell. 

The door jangled and there was a lull in conversation. Regina turned to see what had arrived that had silenced everyone and shrieked in surprise. 

_“Ohmygawd!”_

Her water glass went flying and shattered on the floor spilling water everywhere. Her hands clapped over her mouth and her eyes were so wide that the whites showed all the way around. 

Ruby burst out laughing. 

“Hey, mom, do you like it?” 

Henry bounded across the diner and slithered to a halt in front of his mother. He beamed up at her and flicked the long fringe of his hair back out of his eyes. 

A Mohawk. 

Her son had a _blue_ Mohawk. 

Henry’s brown hair had been sheared away from the sides of his head so that only a brown velvet was left. The stripe of hair on top of his head had been left at its original length but it had been dyed to a stunning and admittedly impressive shade of sapphire blue. It had been spiked up so that it stood up from his head in a pluming crest from the nape of his neck all the way forward to curl down over his forehead.

“Who did this to you?” Regina finally summoned something of a civil response.

“You don’t like it.” Henry’s face fell. “But it’s your favourite colour.” 

“I…” Regina’s jaw worked a moment and then she just shook her head. “Get your things. We’re going.”

“But we haven’t…”

“Your _things_.” Regina gritted out. “Now.”

Where was Graham? She was going to kill him. She didn’t care if it wasn’t actually his fault, he had said he wouldn’t be staying at the salon with Henry, but she had to blame someone. If he hadn’t been gone for longer than he had said he would be then no one would have had the time to turn her son blue!

Regina propelled Henry towards the booth and practically hurled him into his side so he could get his backpack and jacket. Norman was already there, slipping his arms through his backpack and holding her coat again. He looked anywhere but at her and he seemed completely terrified. 

“Norman, I’m not angry with you.” Regina rested her hand on his shoulder and bent so they were at eye level. She even managed a smile. “Everyone else, but not you.” 

Norman gave a lopsided smile that still seemed far too nervous for her liking and she began to get a bad feeling. She frowned a little. 

“Where’s the other shoe?” There just had to be another one waiting to drop on her from a great height with that expression on his face. 

Norman’s mouth twisted and his nose scrunched. 

“In the truck.” 

Regina let out a huff of breath and straightened up again. 

“Of course it is.” Regina opened her purse, still in Henry’s hands as it was and pulled out her bill clip.

She peeled off a couple of dead presidents and turned to slap them down on the bar. She levelled a dangerous finger at Ruby and spoke in a commanding tone that nobody would dare disobey. 

Not if they knew what was good for them. 

“Eleven am, tomorrow, meet me at the stables. We’ll find you a horse.” 

“I…” Ruby looked a little stunned. 

“Do NOT be late.” 

Spinning, Regina gripped Henry by the loop on the top of his backpack and bodily pushed him towards the door of the diner. 

Both boys, carrying all their things, hustled out of the diner without needing to be told twice.

When Regina left, she slammed the door even harder than Missus Cake had and a crack raced across the window pane. 

Granny heaved a sigh and muttered something about the price of bullet proof glass these days. 

Out in the truck, things didn’t exactly improve. 

Regina hauled open the door, not even noticing the twinge her stitches gave, and stilled when she saw Graham. 

He sat in the front bench seat of the truck behind the wheel, his hair was damp as was the skin on his neck, like he hadn’t bothered to dry himself between showering and dressing. He wore a dark blue shirt that had been left open at the neck like he hadn’t taken the time to finish buttoning it, dark jeans that clung all the way along his legs and his feet were bare. 

The spike of attraction that went through her at the sight did not improve Regina’s mood.

“So you had time to go home, change and shower, but not stop my son from turning himself into a parakeet?”

Graham huffed out a breath through his nose and pressed his lips together. There was no excuse that she was going to like that he could give. 

“I didn’t think he’d ever do anything like that.” Graham said in his defence and threw open the driver side door to round the hood of the truck. “And you knew I couldn’t stay with him anyway.”

“Did you, perchance, tell Delilah to give Henry whatever he wanted?” Regina smiled a little tightly when he joined her on the passenger side and loomed over her. She was aware of the boys piling into the back of the truck but ignored it.

“How was I supposed to know that he wanted a Mohawk?!” Graham waved into the truck at Henry whose mouth was twisted and was trying to look a lot more innocent than he actually was. “Did you even know?”

Regina opened her mouth and then shut it so hard her teeth clicked. She looked away from him. 

“You,” she finally said, “are ruining a perfectly good tirade.” 

“Not even sorry.” Graham stooped, scooped her up into his arms and piled her into the truck all in one move. 

Regina turned, swinging her legs around to hop back down onto the ground and continue yelling at him, but he just gripped her knees, swivelled her right back around and slammed the door on her. He was resigned to her being in a bad mood for the rest of the day and at least wanted to have done something to deserve it. 

Just wait until she looked in the box in the front seat.

Graham rounded the truck swung open the driver’s door again and hopped up into the driver’s seat. She was in full flow once more. 

“No.” She pointed into the box. “No way.” 

“I had to.” Graham didn’t look at her and turned the ignition over instead, starting the truck with a roar from the engine. 

The wolf pups in the box whimpered at the loud sound and all the yelling. They were bundled in towels because he hadn’t had the time to properly dry himself never mind them before cleaning everybody, changing clothes and dashing back out of the house to go and pick up the lads and find that Henry had always secretly wanted to be some kind of bird of paradise.

“I said _A_ dog. Not a pack!” Regina glared down into the box and ignored four adorable faces looking back at her.

“Their mother is dead, it would be cruel to separate them.” Graham decided not to tell _how_ their mother had died just yet. He had no desire to get into that conversation with sensitive ears in the back of the truck. 

“No.” Regina folded her arms over her chest and quickly changed her mind when the pain became dizzying in an instant. She looked out the windshield before Graham could notice. 

“They can’t go to the animal shelter. It’s full.” Graham hadn’t checked but that would be the story the receptionist at the shelter gave as soon as Graham told them that was the case. “Somebody’s got to look after them.” 

“No.” Regina glared at nothing out of the car window and watched the scenery of Storybrooke pass by. 

She was suddenly glad that she no longer had her magic. She had little doubt that she’d have torn down a building or three just to vent, the mood she was in currently. Then again, if she’d had her magic still, she’d still be the Evil Queen on a full time basis and she would have neither Henry nor Graham. 

That was a sobering thought. 

“I’m not asking you to do it.” Graham heaved a sigh. “I can keep them with me at the station during the day.” 

Regina didn’t respond to that. She was too embroiled with the thoughts of similar circumstances happening just a few weeks prior. When she’d still had his heart in her possession. Would she have ordered him to get rid of them? Would she have ordered him to kill them?

No. 

Regina shook her head a little to dispel that thought. Even she drew the line at drowning helpless animals. Cruel and malicious she might be, but she had never turned all of her hatred on animals. 

Animals couldn’t deserve it. 

Regina’s eyes betrayed her and she glanced down into the box.

The bravest of the pups stood up on his hindlegs, his front paws hooked over the top of the cardboard box, his little snub nose wrinkled in what he must have thought was a ferocious snarl. 

Regina snorted and looked out the window once more. 

“No.” 

Graham rolled his eyes and gave up. It was useless trying to fight her when she was like this. a lot of people would have thought it was an exercise in futility to fight her any time, but Graham knew he could reason with her once she had calmed a little…and the best way to do that was to let her get it out of her system. 

Preferably at someone else. 

“Here.” Graham leaned past her and opened the glove box to rummage in it a moment. He pulled out a small box and pushed it into her hands. “Put your cell number in that.” 

Regina opened the unsealed box that held a cheap cell phone and frowned over at him. 

“Why?” 

“It’s for Norman. To call us if he needs us.” Graham turned his attention back to driving and took the turn off that led to the Shoe Shop.

They had very much crossed over into the wrong side of the tracks and Graham hated taking Norman back there as much as he would hate abandoning the wolf pups in the box beside him.

Maybe Regina wasn’t the only one that liked the boy. 

“And so Miss Cobbler can call him when he doesn’t come straight home from school.” Graham spoke innocently enough but the idea had been planted in Regina’s head and he felt no guilt at all for pointing her ire at someone else. 

“That is true.” Her voice was quiet and calculating and she searched for the phone’s memory and began to punch in her cell number. 

Finding that Henry’s, Graham’s, the station’s and the Manor’s numbers had already been added. Up until now, Henry’s cell phone had only been used for emergencies but she supposed she did not begrudge him contacting his one friend on it. 

“You can’t give me a cell phone!” 

Regina looked up in surprise at Norman’s sudden protest and twisted to look back at him. 

“According to who?” 

“I…uh…it’s too expensive.” Norman wrinkled his nose trying to think of another excuse. “And Miss Cobbler wouldn’t allow it.” 

“Miss Cobbler,” Regina spoke in a low and dangerous tone, “will do as she’s told.” 

Regina turned her attention back to Norman’s new cell phone, finished adding any other numbers she thought he might need (her office and Granny’s –if she wasn’t at the house she’d most likely be there) and then twisted around again to hand both it and the charger to Norman. 

“So you will call us when you need us.” Regina told him. 

When Norman hesitated to take it, Henry reached out and accepted it from Regina and then took Norman’s backpack from him to stuff it inside himself. Zipping the bag back up again, he plonked it back onto Norman’s lap. 

“You guys don’t really ask for stuff.” Norman muttered. 

“It’s mostly so no one can say no.” Regina smirked at him and turned her attention back to the front of the truck when it pulled to a stop. “Come along, Norman.” 

Regina opened the passenger side door but waited for Graham to skirt the truck and help her down onto the pavement. 

Irritated with him or not, she still had no desire to pop a stitch with the short drop from her seat to the ground. 

Norman warily hopped down from his side of the truck and hurried around the side to stand beside her. She rested a hand on his shoulder and steered him up the overgrown garden path to the battered old house that was the children’s home. 

It had once –a very long time ago- apparently been a church. One side had a tower that had held a belfry back in the day but many other changes had been worked into the house over the years, including a rounded conservatory on the opposite end of the building to the spire so it did –in fact- look a bit like a shoe. 

That and Miss Cobbler’s name…well, it had quickly become the Shoe Shop to the locals of Storybrooke. 

Graham leaned back against the truck in the shelter of the open door and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He watched Norman point up to the tallest part of the Shoe Shop and tell Regina something before the ascended the steps to the porch and rang the doorbell. It clunked drunkenly, in need of repair. Along with many other things. 

“That’s a little mean.” Henry unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the front seat to speak to Graham. “Pointing her at Miss Cobbler like that.” 

“Then perhaps Miss Cobbler should look after her charges and be concerned when they’re three hours late returning from school, eh?” Graham spoke mildly.

“Still, we both knew what we were doing and that she’d be mad at us. It’s not really fair to get her to take that out on someone else.” 

“Life’s not fair.” Graham shrugged. 

Henry opened his mouth to say more but the door to the Shoe Shop was flung open and Miss Cobbler all but exploded out from behind the screen door too. 

Norman was snatched up in a crushing bear hug from the older woman before being set down and held by the shoulders. She shook him a little once, clearly both angry and relieved with him at the same time, and then rounded on Regina. Miss Cobbler pushed Norman behind her as if to protect him from the Mayor and she waggled a finger in Regina’s face, her words –though inaudible to Henry and Graham- were clearly harsh. 

Regina rocked back but didn’t step away, her eyebrows rose and she took the berating from the old woman in silence. 

When Miss Cobbler was done, skinny shoulders heaving and drawing her much patched and repaired shawl about herself, Regina smiled. 

Graham straightened a little when he realised it was a genuine smile. Not cruel or malicious in the slightest. 

“We’re in so much trouble.” Henry muttered, watching his mom talk to Miss Cobbler until the woman relaxed and warily nodded to Regina. 

“Aye.” Graham let out a slow breath realising that his plan had been foiled by –of all things- a foster mother who gave a shit about the children she looked after. 

According to Emma, no such beast existed. 

Buggeration. 

Regina continued to chat for a few moments with Miss Cobbler, waving up to encompass the entire house at one point. Miss Cobbler gave a darting glance to follow the motion and then frowned at Regina. She spoke warily but Regina’s smile never left her face. 

Graham straightened from the truck when Regina bent to say her goodbyes to Norman, nodded once more to Miss Cobbler and started carefully down the stairs and onto the path again. Her heels clipped over the weed littered flagstones of the path and she closed the gate behind her with a geriatric creak and a clang from the latch. Her smile changed to a slightly more dangerous expression. 

“You,” she stepped into Graham’s shadow and looked him dead in the eye, “are in trouble.” 

“Aye.” Graham stooped and lifted her into the truck before resigning himself to being berated all the way home. 

He faltered a moment when he realised that home now meant the manor. Not the bungalow that he had kept as his lair for the last twenty eight years. Shaking that off, he opened the driver’s side door and stilled when he saw that Regina held the brave whelp in her hands. She spanned his chest with one hand and cradled his hindquarters in the other, holding the little beast up so she could look him in the eye. 

She gave a low growling word in Wolf and then, at the pup’s high pitched reply, cradled him against her chest. 

“Warming up to them?” 

“Just because you two can’t behave for five consecutive minutes doesn’t mean I should blame helpless animals.” Regina told him primly. “We’re keeping this one.” 

“You can’t split them up!” Henry nearly hurled himself clean over the seat in his enthusiasm. “They’re brothers. It’s not fair.” 

“Life is not fair.” Regina repeated what Graham had said just a few minutes prior. “I said we could have one dog. If you don’t want this one, pick another.” 

“I’m not choosing.” Henry scowled at her and flicked his blue hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. “We can’t split them up. Not after they just lost their mom.”

“Then they all go.” Regina didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest at Henry’s gasp of horror.

“Go where?! Graham said the animal shelter was full.” 

“Graham lied.” Regina arched a brow Graham’s way when he started the truck and gave no response to that. 

“They won’t look after them like we can!”

“Buckle up, Henry.” Graham glanced at him in the rearview mirror. 

Henry growled and threw himself back in his seat, hauling his seatbelt on. 

“We?” Regina raised an eyebrow at him, turning more fully in her seat to look over the back of the bench to see him. “There is no ‘we’. You’ll be at school and Graham shall be at work and I will be the one left to look after them.”

“At least you won’t be bored.” Graham spoke innocently enough, knowing it would needle her, and pulled out onto the road. 

“Then I’ll take them to school.” Henry wouldn’t be dissuaded. “It can be a class project or something. Miss Blanchard wouldn’t mind.” 

“She will if I tell her she will.” Regina spoke mildly, lifting the pup so that she could rub her cheek over the top of its head and its curled little ears. It wasn’t old enough for them to stand up straight yet. 

“Mom, you can’t. Think how they’d feel!” Henry flipped his hair out of his face again and reached forward to grip the back of the bench seat. “They just lost their mom. I don’t know how that feels but after you were in the hospital, I can make a pretty good guess. You took me in when I didn’t have anybody, why not take them too?” 

Regina stilled, the pup still cradled close to her neck, it had given up any pretence of being a fierce apex predator and was snuggling into her body heat instead. She looked out the windscreen for a long moment, Henry’s arguments sinking in, and then petted the pup again, shaking off the serious mood and going back to her wilful ignorance when it came to everyone else’s feelings. 

“That’s a point. They’re a lot cuter than you are. I could send you to the animal shelter and keep the puppies.” Regina twisted to look at Henry, the pup still cuddled into her neck, she smirked at her son. “They might be easier to train too.” 

Henry sat back with a thud and folded his arms over his chest. 

“You’re not sending me to the animal shelter and I’m totally adorable.” Henry sniffed in disdain at any accusations otherwise. “And I’m already housetrained.”

“But when they shed hair, it won’t be blue.” Regina pointed out mildly. 

Henry’s jaw rocked to the side and he looked out the window a long moment to avoid his mother’s gaze. It was useless. He could feel it even if he couldn’t see it. He growled out a low sound and then turned to look sullenly at Regina.

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you in the diner. I didn’t think about that bit.” 

Regina arched a brow and he looked out the window again. Trying not to sulk since he had technically been in the wrong. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you what I was gonna do. I just wanted to have cool hair for joining the soccer team and I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

A few more moments of being stared at whilst stubbornly looking out the window and Henry cracked. 

“Good gravy! Can you stop just looking at me like that and tell me what my punishment is?!” Henry threw up his hands and yelled so loud that he startled the pup in Regina’s hands into wakefulness with a yelp. 

Regina took a moment to hush the frightened little whelp, stroking him and murmuring softly to him in wolf. She relieved Henry of the weight of her regard for a few moments and let him stew in the tension of what punishment she might dish out. 

It occurred to her that she could ground him and ban him from seeing Emma but that seemed excessively cruel. Especially since she knew that –now- he would abide by her wishes because he knew he had been wrong and his moral compass could not steer him wrong in that regard. 

It really was beyond her how someone so fucked up as she could have raised such a fine son. 

“Well, first of all, you’re going to be cutting back on the comic book spending. From now on, a large chunk of that money will be spent on hair dye.” Regina turned to look out the windscreen for a moment. “No son of mine will have his roots showing like some sort of heathen.” 

Henry huffed out a breath through his nose and scowled but nodded. He guessed that was fair. He’d done this, it wouldn’t really be right or fair to expect his mom to keep paying for it. 

“Okay.” 

“You’re going to have to work off the debt to Graham as well. All this hair dying nonsense isn’t cheap. I imagine it was something in the region of sixty dollars.” 

“Sixty?!” Henry squeaked. He’d had no idea that it would cost that much. 

“It was actually eighty.” Graham risked speaking. “Delilah knew I had no idea what I was doing. He’s got a bunch of tonics and potions and gels as well in his bag.” 

“Another thing your pocket money will now be spent on.” Regina looked back at Henry again. 

Henry heaved a sigh and nodded. 

“Anything else?” 

“Well, since you are so desperate to keep the puppies, you will look after them.” 

“I can take them to school?” Henry brightened and was quickly shot down. 

“No-o.” Regina told him patiently. “Graham will be keeping them at the station whilst you are at school and you will walk home with them as soon as they are old enough.”

“Every day?” Henry raised his eyebrows. It was over a mile from the station to the Manor and now Henry would be doing it with four puppies.

“Rain or shine.” Regina smirked. “And you’re going to read up on how to look after puppies and you’re going to train them. They’re going to be big and we will NOT be keeping them if they are dangerous to you or anyone else.”

“Does that mean toilet training them too?” Henry asked warily. 

“You bet, mister.” Regina tickled her puppy under the chin. “And cleaning up whatever they do on the carpet until then.” 

“Oh.” 

“Still want to keep them?” 

“YES.” Henry glared at her. “I’m not giving up just because it’s gonna be hard.” 

“I didn’t raise you to do anything less.” Regina turned her attention to look fully out the front windshield. Mainly so he couldn’t see her smile. 

He was a good little boy. Especially when it came to admitting when he was wrong. 

She couldn’t ever remember when she had taught him to do that as it was a skill she herself had never bothered to master.

“So what does Graham get?” Henry asked after a moment and Regina blinked, her lips twitching in a smirk. 

“Clipe.” Graham muttered but there was no real malice to it. He was busy turning the truck into the driveway of the Manor. 

Even in the car, the ripple of the wards passing over them was a reminder that having four dogs that would grow to be exceedingly large might not be such a terrible thing after all. Regina sobered a moment but Henry drew her out of it just as quickly. 

“Well?” He loosed himself from his seatbelt and leaned over the front seat to look down into the box of puppies. “Graham’s the one that brought them home. What punishment does he get?” 

Regina looked over at Graham for a long moment and hummed in the back of her throat. 

“I’ll think of something.” 

Graham arched an eyebrow at her, wondering what she was up to, but was willing to wait to find out what she had in store for him.

“Here, you can start now, take them inside and get them properly dried off.” Regina bundled her puppy into the box and handed it back over the chair into Henry’s arms. He grunted under the weight of it. 

He’d very quickly regret agreeing to walking back from the Sheriff’s station with them. At least for as long as they were too young to walk themselves for the box and four whelps was heavy. 

Still, for now he was game to try. 

Graham left the truck to help Henry out of the back seat and then rounded the vehicle to help Regina down too. She smirked when he opened the door and reached in to take her by the waist. 

Regina moved before he could, her arms twining about his neck and a leg hooking over his hip. Regina slipped out of her seat and slid down Graham’s body as she might a fireman’s pole, to clip down onto the driveway. Her body plastered to his, sliding her heel down the back of his calf in a painfully teasing move that made him growl low in his throat and grip her by the hips. 

Regina effortlessly slipped from his grasp and smirked up at him. 

“You know, I do believe I thought of something.” 

Graham’s eyes burned over her body for a long moment and his chest heaved with a deep breath before he mustered himself under control. 

“Woman, you’re lucky your son’s just over there and your stitches are still in.” Graham glanced over at the front door where Henry was digging in his backpack for his keys and chattering to the puppies in the box. 

“Excuses, excuses.” Regina teased, opening the back door to remove her jacket and purse. She was laughing at him and Graham prowled over to her to exact revenge in some small way. He stilled when she shivered suddenly.

“What is it?” Graham watched her spin away from him to look out onto the street. Her shoulders were tense and he stood behind her, his arm sliding around her waist in preparation to push her behind him should he need to. “Regina?” 

Slowly, the tension left her shoulders and she let out a long breath. She shook herself and turned to look at him. 

“Nothing. Paranoia, I guess.” 

“You’re sure?” Graham looked over the top of her head out onto the street. Frustrated again that she could sense the threat but he couldn’t. 

“Yes. I’m sure.” Her hand came up to rest over his heart and he didn’t bother to flinch.

She smiled when she realised he genuinely held no fear of her controlling him. Not anymore. It was a weight off her shoulders. A weight that had been so great, that she had carried for so long, that it was staggering and dizzying to have it gone. 

“Graham,” she reached up and cupped his chin, pulling him to look at her, “really. He’s not here. Just a chill wind.” 

Graham gave a low sound in his throat that was almost a growl and watched the street for a long moment. Finally he relaxed a little and drew her deeper into his embrace. He’d drive away any discomfort to her. Even if it was with nothing more than the heat of his body. 

“Stop that.” She pushed away from him and his eyebrows rose. 

“Stop what?” 

“Making me less mad at you.” Regina clapped the truck door shut and moved around him to head into the house. 

“Why on earth would I stop doing that?” Graham stole her purse and Henry’s rucksack from her. Which meant his hands were too full to fend her off when she spun back to him and dragged her hand down over his front to press hard over the fly of his jeans. 

“Because angry sex has always been the best sex between us.” She leaned into him and bit him on the chin as he so often did to her. 

The growl all but exploded out of his chest but she was gone again before he could drop the bags and pin her up against the hood of the truck, Henry and stitches be damned. 

Graham watched her clop up the steps and into the manor, calling on Henry about his shoes of all things, and he let loose an explosive breath to try and calm himself. 

Good grief, they might be on the same side now, she might admit that she cared for him, she might have promised to help him break the curse, but that seemed to detract from how dangerous she was to him not at all. 

Taking another breath to steady himself and glancing out onto the street for one last check, Graham took himself into the house with the rest of his…

Graham smiled when he realised it was true. 

With the rest of his family.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY DONE!
> 
> I beat them into submission (kind of) and we agreed on a compromise I think mainly because they're having a LOT of sex in my other HuntingQueen fanfic so they are mostly mollified for now.
> 
> Mostly. 
> 
> Things slowly move on plot wise but there are shenanigans so enjoy that :D
> 
> Thanks for being (semi) patient, everybody, things will definitely pick up now that this arse of a chapter is out of the way and I actually know where I'm going with it :D
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> AND HOLY CRAP ON A CRACKER THE FORMATTING NOW WORKS WITH A SINGLE CLICK!
> 
> Who wants the next twenty chapters of the Evil Is Silent posted then? ;)
> 
> You know you want it. Mwahahahahaha!

**Chapter 16 – Poor Graham**

 

**_Midnight…_ **

 

“There ye are.” Graham leaned in through the door of the laundry room and smirked down at Regina.

She was propped up on the piled cushions of the decking furniture brought in to keep them dry. She sat on one of the cushions, her legs crossed and all four wolf pups bundled in between them. She held four tiny rubber topped bottles and all of the pups eagerly suckled from them.

She had made quite the little nest for them. All four whelps had been given a bigger box –an old fruit crate- for them to sleep in. She’d stuffed it with old towels and set them all up in the laundry room where the heat of the machines would keep them warm. Newspapers now carpeted most of the floor to prevent any undue mess and this was their third feed of the night. They had to be fed every three hours or so and Regina had decreed she’d feed them until midnight and then they were Graham’s responsibility.

Aside from that, she seemed genuinely quite taken with the little balls of fluff. Something that both Graham and Henry had noticed but had been sure to ignore.

Graham closed the door quietly behind himself and prowled into the room, sinking down into a couch in front of her.

“Are ye not cold?” Graham reached out and tugged at the tee shirt she wore. It was one of his. She wore very little else.

“It’s warm in here.” She looked up at him from under hooded lashes but did not smile. Not with her mouth at least.

“Still in the dog house?” Graham shifted so he knelt on the floor in front of her. He reached out to take two of the bottles from her and she gave them up with barely a fight.

The pups squeaked at the shifting of their bottles but didn’t let it stop them from guzzling down their midnight snack.

“That depends.” She decided eventually.

“Oh?” Graham watched the pups begin to slow their suckling. Growing sleepy with their full bellies. “On what?”

“The reason for the four wild animals that you’ve brought home.” She tilted her head at him and raised an eyebrow. “We agreed on a dog. It’s not like you to go back on your word.”

“Events transpired.” Graham nodded.

“Events being?”

“Him.” Graham stroked a finger over the brow of one of the pups. “I spoke to the local pack. They were going to…help. He got to them first. Killed them.”

He refused to look at her. Not with the rage that still boiled under his skin whenever he thought about the bloodbath he’d witnessed. His jaw clenched and his teeth creaked but his fingers were so gentle when he brushed them over the ears of the pups nestled between her legs.

“Oh, Graham,” Regina reached out and her fingers traced over his cheek, “why didn’t you say?”

“Just did.” Graham glanced up at her and then sharply away before she could be subjected to the full weight of his anger. He turned his attention to the pups instead. “They need their bed.”

Regina dropped her hand from his chin and hummed in the back of her throat. She handed the pups to him one by one, letting him settle them into their fruit crate bed and bundle more towels around them to keep them warm. Judging by the heat in the bed, she’d put a hot water bottle in there.

How odd that the scourge of a nation was so good at being a mother. She thought of the smallest things that would have completely passed Graham by.

“Graham,” Regina tried again when he was done fussing over the pups, “Haurool, look at me.”

Graham’s eyes finally lifted to meet hers and he was surprised at the depth of her compassion. She knew, she knew exactly how much it hurt him. A slow breath shivered out of him and his head bowed, he tilted forward, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’m so… _mad_. It was a mess. It was bloody and awful and…the land is angry, love. The land is seething with it. The People were there, every animal, every species. They bore witness. I promised them.” He seethed out another breath. “I promised them I’d fix it. I promised them I’d kill him.”

“I’ll add it to the To Do list on the fridge.” She murmured and rubbed her nose against his a little. She smiled when he huffed a chuckle. “We can do it. There is very little I think we couldn’t accomplish together.”

“You’re still hurt.”

“Not _that_ hurt.” She pulled away a little to arch an eyebrow at him. “Not nearly so breakable as you think, at least.” She was holding onto the collar of his shirt, tugging him a little closer. She unfolded her legs, her knees bracketing his hips. He was suddenly aware that they were very close and she smelled very good.

“I stink of death.” He murmured, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

“I know. I’ve been able to smell it all night.” She pulled a little, urging him closer. “It’s _incredibly_ attractive.”

“Don’t tease me, pet. Not in the mood I’m in.” Graham rocked forward onto his hands and she leaned back, sinking into her pile of cushions. Their faces remained barely inches apart.

“Who’s teasing?” Regina lifted both hands to his shirt and began to pluck the buttons apart.

“You’re not well.”

“I shall let you do most of the work.” She smirked.

“I feel I’ve been in a battle, love. I can still feel the blood on my skin.” Graham growled when she shoved at his shirt, pushing it from her shoulders. “I’m in no fit state for ye.”

“Hot, angry, your heart pounding in your skin, you’ve been an inch from death and your nerves are still jangling with it…what better state could you be in?” She nipped his chin with her teeth.

“I cannot be gentle.” He growled, leaning closer to her.

Regina reclined, sinking fully into the cushions and tugging him with her with her hands on his belt. She worked the buckle free with a clank and made short work of the snap of his jeans.

“I don’t want gentle.” Regina brushed her lips over his and he bit her with a soft sting. “I want you to prove to me that I’m alive.”

Graham’s chest was heaving, his arms trembled with the need to take her in them. He wanted nothing more than to take her then and there. To rip her panties away and sink into her. He wanted to bury his face in her neck and inhale her soft scent and get rid of the copper tang of blood that filled his head.

She had been teasing him all night, wicked female. A brushing contact there, a touch here, a kiss, a smirk, a simmering look. She’d practically sat on him when they’d been watching some idiot movie with the boy. She’d eaten dinner with a carnal skill he’d forgotten that she’d possessed and denied all of it when he had shot her accusing looks.

He was on the edge and the way she was spreading her legs for him and shoving his jeans down over his hips was doing nothing for his wavering control.

“I nearly died, Graham. I nearly died in your arms and that was only the beginning. He’s coming for us. He’s prowling around out there somewhere and we’re not ready. We could die tomorrow. Both of us. Prove it to me.” She was so close that her lips brushed his with every word. Her hand slid into his hair, her nails scraping over his scalp with a scintillating sting. “Prove it to us both that we’re still alive. That we’re going to fight.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Graham’s head dipped and he pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat, dragging his teeth over her collarbone.

“I’m not made of glass.”

“There’s no spell to stop me from hurting you now.” Graham was all but panting for her. His cock was painfully hard and he was so incredibly aware of the heat of her through her panties as she rolled her hips up against his.

“You don’t need a spell.” She kissed him with short, nipping, kisses. “You just need me.”

He could only summon a low growl of approval at that. The primal part of him agreeing whole heartedly with her.

“Take me,” she urged him, working his shorts down after his jeans until they tangled about his knees, “take what you need.”

“I can’t be gentle.” He shook his head wildly, trying to calm himself but unable to pull away from her.

“I don’t _want_ gentle.” Regina clapped both hands down over his back and sank her nails into him. With a short rip, she cut a perfect ten card into his back.

Graham’s back arched and he snarled. His eyes met hers and he saw her smirk when she heard his control snap like an overstretched rubber band.

His mouth crushed over hers, pushing her deeper into the cushions and she groaned into him. Oh, how she had missed this. His tongue thrust into her and his hand fisted in her tee shirt, rucking it up over her chest.

She wriggled helpfully, slipping free of the garment and tossing it away. She dragged him flush against her, rubbing her skin against his, revelling in the hot and hard feel of him. She sighed, heat pooling low in her belly, when she inhaled the sharp alpine scent of him. He had never _quite_ lost that wild tang of the Blackwood. Always there, just a hint, just a tiny measure of it. Something untameable. Something that was purely him.

He gave her deep and drugging kisses. His tongue sliding against hers, his teeth nipping at her lips. His hands were in her hair and trailing down over her neck, his fingers lingering over her pounding pulse. He stroked lower, growling with approval when he found that she was naked save for her panties without the shirt. He tore his mouth from hers, kissing his way after the path his hands had taken.

He sucked hard on her neck, making her gasp, and raked the bruise with his teeth for good measure. He spanned her ribs with his hands, lifting her to his mouth when he closed his lips around one of her nipples.

She moaned for him, deep throated and needy, her fingers spearing into his hair. Her back arched despite the twinge in her chest that she barely noticed and her knees tightened on his hips. Her hand skated down over his back, smearing through the trickling blood there from the scratches she’d already lain on him, and absorbing the molten metal feel of his muscles that seemed to simmer just beneath his skin.

His hands slid down from cradling her ribs to the cinch of her waist and then lower to the curve of her hips. He plucked at the lace of her panties with gentle tugs of his fingers and switched his attention from one breast to the other.

Regina let loose a groaning sigh and arched prettily for him again.

“Rip them off.” She urged, rolling her hips up against his.

He shook his head minutely and ignored her sound of frustration. He pulled at her underwear, sliding them down her legs and backing away from her so she could wriggle out of them in a manner she believed to be quite undignified. He seemed to hesitate a moment before coming back to her and Regina was having none of that.

She sat up, gripping him by the arms and rocked backwards again, thumping into the pillows and bringing him down on top of her. She gasped at the sudden sharp pain that accompanied his weight and growled when he tensed.

“I’m not going to break. Take me.”

“I could still hurt you.”

Regina growled again with frustration and tunnelled her fingers through his hair, dragging his mouth down over hers. She kissed him like she wanted to inhale him and his reticence melted away in the face of her enthusiasm. She might be weakened but she definitely wanted this.

Her hands slid over the taut muscle of his ass and her fingernails dug sharply into him, spurring him closer to her. She lifted her hips, her wet cunt sliding against his hard cock and Graham’s hips bucked against hers entirely involuntarily. She purred into him, rocking more eagerly up against him and Graham felt his already stretched control give another creak of protestation as she pulled him deeper into temptation.

He shouldn’t. She wasn’t ready. She thought she was ready because she had spent the entire night teasing them both mercilessly with her innuendo laden shenanigans. Neither of them were accustomed to making overtures and not following through. She’d been punishing them both.

Still, he had to be the sensible one. He had made a vow to protect her. Even against herself. She was still sore and he didn’t want her to rupture something with his more than enthusiastic bed play. He’d never had to hold back with her, never, he didn’t know if he could do it. He would not break his word, he would not hurt her.

Though he would try to give her what she needed if not what she wanted.

Graham lifted her legs, kissing her deeply once more, and sank slowly into her.

She groaned, such a throaty and satisfied sound that he very nearly forgot all his good intentions and gave into every base urge that thrilled through him at that incredible sound she made.

“Haurool.” She sighed into him and that too was nearly his undoing.

His name. Not the one given to him, by men or by her, but his _name_. She wanted _him._ Not what he’d had to pretend to be, not what the curse had turned him into, but him. She wanted him. She needed him.

Still, even though he shook with the need to do anything but, he pushed slowly into her in little maddening thrusts, each one pushing him just a little deeper into her. Giving her time to get used to him. It had been a while after all. She stretched _deliciously_ around him, so tight, so wet.

Graham growled and shivered when she arched her back and wrapped her legs even tighter around his hips, drawing him deeper. She rolled her hips against him in a delicious twisting motion that rippled internal muscles around him in a sensation that made him groan incoherently and thrust deeper into her.

Careful, careful, careful, he reminded himself.

“I won’t break. Deeper.” She thrust her hips up against his, groaning in frustration when he held her hips still. “If you try and pin me down, and I fight, I really am going to hurt myself.” She spoke against his mouth, dragging her nails across his chest and down over his arms. A move designed to drive him wild. It had never failed her in the past.

Graham closed his eyes and shivered, his jaw clenching.

“Graham…”

His mouth crashed down over hers and she thrilled at the thought she had won. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders. He thrust hard into her and she purred for him. His hands fisted in the cushions, material creaking, stitches on the verge of popping. He kept his powerful pace, a deep rhythm that made her gasp with every thumping slide of his cock into the deepest part of her.

She was going wild. Her nails scored into his skin, her teeth scraped over his lips, his jaw, his neck, his chest, anywhere she could reach to bite. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling his mouth down over hers again. She kissed him fiercely, grinding up against him, her heels digging into his ass, trying to urge him to fuck her harder.

He obeyed, increasing his pace, thumping harder into her, making her cry out. Loudly and rhythmically.

Graham chuckled, she had never been a quiet one, not since the first time he’d taken her. He clapped his hand over her mouth, stifling her a little, and she sank her teeth into the side of his palm. He hissed at the sweet pain and rewarded her with a harder thrust that made her groan, her eyes rolling back in her head.

She was close, he knew she was, he could feel her tightening about him and he quickened his pace. His other hand slipped down between them, his hand splaying across her belly, his thumb stroking hard over her clit.

Regina struggled against him, desperate for him to be closer, desperate for him to take her harder. She clawed at him, bit him, her fist pounded down on his back and she writhed up against him. She needed just one more…

Graham wrenched her head to the side, baring her throat to him. He growled, the wolf in him pleased at her complete submission to him. Ducking his head, he spanned her neck with his teeth and bit down. Hard.

Regina arched, her head thrown back, screaming into his hand as she convulsed around him. She bucked up against him, trying to impale herself completely onto his cock but he was careful not to let her strain herself. Quickly gentling her down to rational thought and the real world once more.

He sat back, pulling away from her and huffing out a slow breath. He stroked his hands over her. Her breasts, her toned stomach, the curve of her hips and the quivering muscles of her thighs. He panted heavily, soothing himself through laying his hands on her, by keeping the contact. He couldn’t let himself cut loose, but touching her grounded him a little.

Made it easier to ignore the almost painful throbbing of his cock.

His hands spanned her hips and stroked upwards over her sides to her ribs, his thumbs stroking the underside of her breasts and he went completely stock still when he noticed the stain under her bandage.

“Regina, are you alright?”

“Exceedingly.” She lay back against the pillows, her head thrown back and her chest heaving in deep panting breaths.

“No, think, are you alright? You’re bleeding.”

“Bleed…?” Regina was so addled that it was a real effort to lift her head and pay attention to what he was saying.

“You’re _bleeding._ ” His hand lifted to come down on her bandage and he flinched away from her before he could even touch her. “I hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt.” Regina sat up on a small groan and he looked horrified. “That was a sound of a woman well ridden, I’m not hurt.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“And you’re repeating yourself. I’m fine.”

“You shouldn’t be bleeding!”

“I told you, wounds seep, it’s disgusting but there it is.” She looked down at her bandage and grimaced at the pink stain behind the white pad. “It’s nothing but plasma or some other distasteful secretion. It’s fine.”

“It’s _not_ fine.” He reached for her again and then his hands curled into fists and came down on his knees. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” She insisted and reached for him when he refused to touch her. She clambered onto his lap and wriggled a little to settle herself comfortably. “Look at me.”

His jaw clenched and he took his time in lifting his eyes to hers.

“I’m fine. I promise. You said that I had to trust you and I do. Now, will you trust me?”

“I know you, pet. Your appetites get you into trouble. You’re so used to being invincible that you’ve forgotten what it is to be breakable. You can be hurt. By me especially.” His voice was quiet for the last and she buried her fingers in his hair and used it to lift his head so he had to meet her gaze.

“I’m not going to break. I’ll tell you the second you hurt me. Do you trust me to do that?”

“I don’t trust me to hear you.” He finally murmured and his hands tentatively came down on her naked waist.

“We both know that I can be vocal when I want to.” She smirked at him and he hummed deep in his throat and shook his head.

“Not yet. Not until you’re stronger.”

Regina narrowed her eyes and pulled suddenly.

Graham yelped as he was hauled around and flipped onto his back. Regina came down on top of him and arched a brow down at him. Her knees gripped his hips and she ground down onto him all wet heat and softness to his hardness. He groaned deep in his throat, bucking up against her despite himself, and fisted his hands in the cushions she had toppled him onto.

“I’m strong enough.”

He shook his head hard.

“Mm-mm.” He seethed out a breath through his teeth when her fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked him deliciously. “I’ll not hurt you. You have to wait. Once your stitches are out then…then…Christ, woman, you’ll end me.”

“My plan exactly.” She murmured against his lips and took him in a deep, wet, kiss.

He growled, the material of the cushions creaking under his fingers. His muscles across his arms, shoulders and chest bunching in sharp relief. His belly quivered as her hand travelled lazily up and down his cock and her lips closed over his in deep, drugging kisses. He growled into her, his hips rocking up against her despite his internal pleas not to and she chuckled into him.

“I won’t hurt you.” He growled against her, biting her lip in rebuke for all her teasing.

“I know that.” She chuckled, rising up on her knees and guiding him into her as she sank down onto him right to the hilt.

His back arched and the cushions ripped under his clenching hands.

Her internal muscles rippled around him, squeezing tight, and stars burst behind his eyes. He shook his head again.

“Stop this before I lose control.”

“Yes please.”

“Regina…”

“Yes?” Her hips rocked against his, cutting off whatever he had been about to say and she grinned when he groaned again.

She hadn’t had him like this in a long time. Desperate to touch her but unable to. In the past, she had bound him with magic when he had been too wild to be given free reign and fucking him had been one of the few things capable of calming him, but now he held himself back of his own free will. She could understand that, she supposed, he was an honourable man and he meant to keep his word but she also meant to prove to him that he wasn’t hurting her.

She rode him in a slow and twisting rhythm that was nothing too strenuous for her but it broke a sweat out across his brow.

“I won’t hurt you.” He snarled, his hands leaving the cushions and then slamming back down onto the ripped fabric when he caught himself before he could take her in his arms.

“I know.” She rotated her hips against his and grinned when a harsh pant was ripped from him. His eyes glittered when they met hers.

“Just you wait.” He growled. “Just wait until your stitches are out.”

She just laughed at him and it did truly wicked things to her cunt around his cock. He arched his back, pushing his head deeper into the pillows and a low groan ripped out of him. She twisted her hips and he just _snapped_.

His hands cinched around her waist and he flipped her beneath him, his cock slamming into her to the hilt and her back arched. Her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth opened in a silent scream. His head lowered to hers, intending to ravage her mouth in a stunning kiss that she’d never forget but that was not to be.

“Stop.”

Graham’s muscles locked and he froze. Had he hurt her?

“Oh dear,” she murmured, her nails raking through the scruff on his jaw and dragging a low growl from him, “I find myself fatigued. Perhaps I’ve strained something. I’ve got to go and check.”

Her fingers spanned his shoulders and she gave a gentle push.

Graham made a strange, animal, sound at being denied her but let himself be pushed away from her. His arms shook, every muscle in his body quivered and his cock throbbed in time with the thundering pulse in his head. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and succeeding in doing nothing more than tormenting himself with a head full of her scent.

“I’m going to go and change my bandage.” She kissed him on the cheek and wriggled out from under him. “Such a grievous wound, after all, I’d best be sure not to strain myself.”

Graham’s head hung low and he panted harshly. He heard her pulling her tee shirt on once more and the door opening.

“Join me when you find yourself trustworthy, dear.”

The door closed and Graham flopped down onto his back on the cushions. His chest was heaving, his skin flushed and his cock ached.

How long until she got her stitches out?

He didn’t know.

Too fucking long.                      

****

**_The Stables…_ **

 

“I still don’t see why you have to do this.” Graham killed the engine of the truck, parking in the stable parking lot, and turned to look at her.

It was barely half ten in the morning and she was already driving him crazy.

Her will to ‘punish’ him was seemingly boundless. After leaving him high and dry in the laundry room, he had finally come to bed thinking himself calm only to find her fresh from the shower and rubbing some kind of lotion into her skin. Of course, he’d had to do her back because she couldn’t reach, oh, and her legs too since she couldn’t bend. She was far too delicate, after all. She had then proceeded to rub that same lotion over his tattoos then over his arms and chest and his back and…lower. She worked him into a frenzy once more and –when he had her bent over the dresser- ordered him to stop.

Graham had gone to bed rock hard and aching and she’d been lissom and sated. She’d draped her naked, slippery, self over him like a living blanket and dropped off into near instant sleep.

And _she_ had slept soundly, not frequently awakened by almost painful arousal every time she shifted against him.

Her assault had started anew in the morning (she was well rested after all) when she had oh-so innocently asked him to help her shower since it was difficult with her cast and the rubber necked bag thing she had to wear over it to keep it dry.

There was probably a level of hell devoted to the torment of men washing the backs of the women they most desired whilst being able to do nothing about it.

Not that he hadn’t tried. He’d had her hoisted up off the slick floor of the shower stall and pinned against the tiles, her legs draped over his elbows and the tip of his cock sliding into her, before her command to halt had come and he’d very nearly ignored her.

He wouldn’t hurt her. He was nearly certain. He’d just…oh, gods, she was going to kill him.

So he’d put her down and let her leave him in the shower –which she helpfully flipped to cold- and he’d banged his head against the tiles a few times in order to try and knock some sense into himself.

“I said I would.” Regina idly toyed with his hair.

She hadn’t seen fit to grant him a reprieve even whilst he drove and had spent the entire truck journey plastered to his side, her arm propped against his shoulder and her fingers tangling in his hair. She had used the excuse of the box of pups taking up the rest of the bench to keep herself in such a position but it had not gone unnoticed by Graham that there was plenty of room for him, the box and her slim slip of a self besides.

“You could have cancelled.”

“Why? I have nothing better to do.” Regina smirked at him and folded one leg over the other, the toe of her knee high leather boot sliding down over his shin.

She was dressed for riding even though she would be doing nothing of the kind. She wore painted on black jodhpurs, a deep blue V-neck sweater that clung everywhere, the silver chain of that medallion of hers disappearing right down into the valley of her cleavage and a belted canvas jacket that fell just past her hips. Her ten rings glinted on her fingers as she plucked at the sleeve of his uniform jacket.

Graham gave her a good long look, from her deliberately wild hair, to her bedroom eyes and her red mouth all the way down to every shapely part of her and his hand tightened on the steering wheel.

“I can certainly think of a few things that you could be doing that would be more preferable.”

“Hmm?” She arched a brow at him and inhaled deeply, knowing exactly what it did to the pleasing landscape of her scenery.

Graham’s gaze betrayed him and dipped to the neckline of her sweater.

He noticed her bruising had all but disappeared. She moved with less pain and needed her pills less.

How many days before he could have her and put this stupid game to an end?

Was he really in danger of hurting her? Really? She’d seemed to enjoy everything he’d done to her the night before and –she’d been right- she hadn’t been bleeding from her wound it had just been being disgusting and seeping or whatever and he’d stopped listening when her hands had slid, slick with lotion, down over his belly to wrap slippery fingers around his cock.

He’d really been more intent on biting her breasts and sucking her nipples to pay much attention to the wound but he recalled a vague memory of it looking pretty stable. So long as he didn’t force her to bend too much he imagined she’d be able to take him.

Right?

He was struck again by the realisation that it mattered to him that she wasn’t hurt. That he didn’t become another tormentor to her. He probably should want to. To carve his vengeance deep into her but…the only thing he wanted deep in her was any part that would fit.

He was in big trouble.

He cared and he was in big trouble.

Their relationship had changed, certainly, but it had ever been a physical one. That part of it had never lessened, not in over thirty years. He doubted it ever would and he was not sorry for that. At all.

“Woman, you’re trying my patience.” He dropped his arm from the wheel and slid it around her waist and under her jacket. “All you’re doing is tormenting both of us.”

“Moi?” Regina looked as innocent as possible. “Torment you? I’ve been nothing but pleasant.”

“Every inch of you is pleasant and more so.” Graham decided that two could play and hoisted her up off her seat and onto his lap. She had obviously been expecting something of the sort because her leg swung over both of his and she sank down into a practiced straddle.

Certainly not the first time they’d been in this position in his truck, that was for sure.

“Oh, Sheriff, whatever will the villagers say?”

“Hot damn, I wish she was mine.” Graham spoke against her skin and dragged his teeth over the column of her neck. His hands crept under the hem of her sweater, questing over her heated skin.

He was just going to touch. Just for a little while. Just to tide him over.

“Now who’s being the tease?” Regina chuckled into his ear and Graham growled for her, his hips flexing up to grind against her softness.

How long until her stitches could come out? Two weeks? Three?

Too damn long.

He couldn’t have said who closed the final distance first but her mouth was suddenly on his and his hands were sliding up over her back to toy with the clasp of her bra.

Her tongue slid into him with a practiced move that she knew drove him to distraction. She sat down against him more fully, her arms winding about his neck and her fingers tunnelling through his hair again. Her nails scraped through his scalp and his hips bucked at the sweet sting. His hands abandoned her bra and slid down her back over the curve of her ass, pulling her closer to the iron bar of his cock in his uniform pants.

 She chuckled into his mouth and kept up her torment.

Wicked, _wicked_ , woman. He was going to make her scream.

Fuck waiting. She seemed fine. She must be. He could be gentle. Really. He could.

The blast of the horn startled them both so badly that Regina bit him quite hard on the lip and he could feel the welling of blood from the scrape of her teeth.

Regina grumbled something, gripped the door handle and swung the driver’s side door open before Graham could even move his hands somewhere more appropriate.

“What?”

Ruby rocked back on her heels to lean against the hull of her red car and her brows shot up. Her mouth twitched but she didn’t laugh. Somehow managing to muscle it down into something of a chin chewing expression.

“It’s after eleven.” She spoke in a strangled tone.

“Well,” Regina cleared her throat, not embarrassed in the slightest, “that’s alright then.”

Regina set her foot down on the step beneath the truck’s door and gracefully dismounted from Graham and the vehicle both. She held onto his arm to control her descent to the hard packed earth of the stable yard and then adjusted her rumpled clothing a little whilst Graham sat up straighter in an effort to hide what Regina had hidden by sitting on him.

“Morning, Sheriff.” Ruby’s ear to ear grin told him that he hadn’t really succeeded.

“Ruby.” He nodded curtly to her and leaned out to hold onto the door and glare down at Regina. “You can’t get out of every argument that way.”

“That is a bet I’m willing to make.” Regina smirked up at him. Reaching up, she smeared her lipstick from his mouth with her fingers. “Have a nice day at work, dear.”

Graham just grunted, clapped the truck door closed and drove away.

Regina watched the truck go, her good hand propped on her hip and then turned to look at Ruby.

Ruby just looked at her for a long moment without saying anything at all.

“We’re fighting.” Regina said by way of explanation.

“That much was obvious.” Ruby nodded, her chin quivering with the effort of restraining her laughter.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t enjoyable.” Regina spoke archly and then turned more fully to study Ruby leaning against the car. She nodded. “Not bad.”

Ruby looked down at herself. She wore a check shirt that was actually tucked into the waistband of her straight cut jeans rather than tied under her cleavage, a pair of battered cowboy boots and a denim jacket. She didn’t know much about riding other than she wanted to try but she figured dressing like a rancher was a good start.

“You suit it.” Regina nodded once and turned towards the stables without further comment.

“The jacket?” Ruby fell into step with her and studied the coat in question. It was new and the first time she had worn it.

“Dressing with a modicum of class.” Regina corrected her.

“Said the woman caught necking with her boyfriend at eleven in the morning.” Ruby faltered when she thought she’d gone too far and then huffed out a relieved breath when Regina just smirked.

“Truly? When does it become acceptable to be caught necking? Is it like drinking? After eleven and before ten?”

“According to Granny; never.” Ruby admitted and Regina chuckled. “As to dressing classy, a lot of cleavage means a lot of tips.”

“But self-respect is priceless.” Regina shrugged a shoulder and Ruby was surprised to note there was no judgement in her tone.

“It’s my body. I can do what I like with it.”

“You absolutely can.” Regina nodded and disappeared into the shadows of the stable block. “Though you might wish to consider whether or not putting it on display for the pleasure of others for money is worth getting ten dollars rather than five. Just a thought.”

“Did you invite me out here to get all judgey or did Granny put you up to it?”

“Your grandmother couldn’t put me up to ordering decaf coffee never mind attempting to give someone a lesson in morals. You said I should have a friend, does that not mean I should speak to you as a friend would? To tell you the truth even when you might not want to hear it?”

Regina had thought about it all the night before (in between bouts of driving Graham wild) and decided that she’d try this whole friendship thing. She’d need to practice in order to more easily manipulate Katherine and her true love into falling for one another all over again. Finding out what the pitfalls were before there were consequences to worry about seemed like a fair idea to Regina.

That and it gave her an excuse to get out of the house where Graham would keep her until she was no longer weakened if he had his way.

“You mean…you actually want to be friends with me?”

“Shouldn’t I?” Regina tilted her head, genuinely curious as to what she might say.

“Well, I just thought, I mean, I didn’t expect for you to actually turn up today. I thought it was something you said because you were pissy. People like you don’t usually hang out with people like me.”

“And what kind of people are we, Ruby?” Regina stopped by one of the stalls and rested her hand on the open door.

Ruby opened her mouth and obviously ran through several responses before coming to the one she thought was least offensive.

“People of differing social circles.”

“Well,” Regina threw the latch on the stall door, “I don’t know about yours, but _my_ social circle comprises mainly of people that are either incredibly boring, incredibly irritating or some horrible combination of the two. Though if you believe me to be slumming it, you are the only one to do so. You are a hardworking, personable young woman that anyone desirous of good company would want to ‘hang out’ with. Do not belittle yourself, Ruby, and do me the credit of not expecting it from me either.”

Ruby opened her mouth and then clipped it shut.

“Huh.” She settled on eventually. “That was actually…nice of you.”

“It’s been known to happen.” Regina shrugged a shoulder blandly and swung the stall door open.

She stepped inside and Ruby followed her though the waitress squeaked when she found herself suddenly eye to nostril with the biggest horse she had ever seen.

He was ginormous. The whiskers of his grey chin tickling over the top of Ruby’s head. He turned his, dipping his chin to look at her and snorted with a sound like a settling steam engine. He was all long legs, lanky neck and raw muscle power. His coat was a blue grey kind of colour peppered with dark brown flecks all over.

Ruby promptly stepped behind Regina hoping for safety.

“Ooooh no, you have to meet him or he won’t let you do anything.” Regina reached behind herself with her good arm and gripped Ruby by the wrist, hauling her in front of her with a surprising strength for a woman recovering from having her chest cracked open. “Ruby, this is Sinbad. He’s an ex-police horse, or so I’m told, and apparently bombproof. Say hello.”

“Uh…hello?” Ruby reversed straight into Regina when Sinbad stretched his neck towards her, the head as long as Ruby’s torso dipping down to her level.

“Easy.” Regina gripped Ruby’s wrist and lifted her arm. “Hold out your hand.”

“So he can nip off my fingers one by one?!” Ruby squeaked.

“I thought you wanted to do this.” Regina murmured, refusing to let Ruby lower her arm. Even werewolf strength was useless if she had no leverage.

“I did. With something smaller that I wasn’t eyeball to nostril with! What the hell breed is he? West Highland Horse-a-saurus?!”

Regina snorted and chuckled.

“He is nothing of the kind. He’s a thoroughbred cross I think. Now, hold out your hand and let him smell you. It’s how horses recognise one of their herd so be still. He won’t hurt you. Let him come to you and don’t move. He can’t actually see right in front of his nose.”

Sinbad did as Regina said and clomped forward a step, bending his neck down so that he could snuffle at Ruby’s fingers.

“Oh.” Ruby breathed when the big gelding lipped at her fingers with his velvet soft muzzle. “Hi there.”

She squeaked again when Sinbad lifted his head and shoved his nose into the crook of her neck, pulling at her collar with his big square teeth.

Regina laughed at Ruby but didn’t let her retreat.        

“He’s gonna eat me!”

“He’s _not_ going to eat you.” Regina admonished her lightly. “I fed him a ham just yesterday.”

“You what?!”

“Horses don’t eat meat. Now, stop being idiotic and pet him. He’s a kitten. Look at him, he just wants to be friends.”

Regina gave a helpful little shove, pushing Ruby towards the admittedly giant horse and guided her hand up to his neck. She used Ruby’s hand to stroke Sinbad’s glossy coat a couple of times and then let go.

“Well…he’s the biggest damn kitten _I_ ever saw.” Ruby muttered but did not stop her petting. Sinbad rumbled a pleased sound and dipped his head to nibble at her shoulder in an attempt to return the favour.

This time, Ruby didn’t freak.

“He’s pretty calm. Most of them get all rolly eyed and start backing up with their ears pinned down whenever I get close.”

“I told you; bombproof. He’s seen it all.” Regina clapped her hand against Sinbad’s huge shoulder. “Why on earth would he be scared of a little morsel like you?”

“Har-de-har.” Ruby drawled at her. She looked nervous after a moment. “You don’t…I’m not riding him today, am I?”

“You can if you want to…but I think it best you get to know each other a little before we get to that.”

“Oh. Good.” Ruby grinned, evidently relieved. Still, she petted Sinbad with firm strokes from his cheek to his withers and his eyes half closed in pleasure. “So…what do I do?”

“I was thinking you could play with him for a bit.” Regina mulled it over. She nodded slowly. “I’ve been told he likes to play ball.”

“Ball?”

“Yes. Ball.” Regina stepped out of the stall and found Sinbad’s halter.

She guided Ruby on how to put it on him and attach the lead rope and where to stand when she led him.

They left the stall together and out into the yard and Regina led them to the working paddock. Sinbad’s ears perked and his step became quicker when he realised where they were going. Still, he behaved well for Ruby and kept his pace matching hers until they reached the gate. He cavilled back and forth, shifting his weight from one hoof to the other his tail swishing and gave a short whinny of impatience.

Regina smirked and unlatched the gate, swinging it wide so Sinbad could hurry Ruby into the paddock with gentle butts of his head to her shoulders.

“Hey!” Ruby laughed at him and spoke to Regina. “Take off his head thingy?”

“Head collar and yes.” Regina nodded and accepted it from Ruby once she had successfully managed to loose Sinbad from his restraints.

Regina moved over to the equipment bin by the paddock and hefted open the lid. She huffed out a breath at the twinge that the effort ran through her but ignored it in favour of pulling out Sinbad’s favourite toy.

Most of the horses in the stables knew her quite well. They’d had twenty eight years to become acclimated to her after all. She gave Ruby the impression that she’d called around but Sinbad was one of her favourites, an older gentleman, but he loved this damn ball.

“ _That’s_ his ball?!” Ruby laughed when Regina hefted it out of the locker.

“You were expecting a handegg?”

“Hande…?” Ruby planted her hands on her hips when she realised what Regina was talking about. “It’s called football and that’s no way to talk about our national pastime.”

“ _Your_ national pastime, maybe, but not mine.” Regina walked to the edge of the paddock, her hands full of the _ginormous_ ball.

It was huge, about three feet in diameter and made of a lightweight plastic material. Not dissimilar to one of those giant gym ball things but slightly larger. It was very light but quite durable and patterned like a giant red and white soccer ball. Regina tossed it up into the air and batted it over the paddock fence so that it bounced over the sand towards Ruby.

The younger woman automatically caught it against her knees and flinched a little when Sinbad gave a little rear and crow hopped towards her. her eyes went wide with alarm and then she laughed when he stomped up and down with his front hooves, head bobbing, and snorted impatiently.

“Well?” Regina looped her arms over the top of the fence and raised her eyebrows. “Give it a kick.”

Ruby hesitated a moment, feeling a bit stupid, but then kicked the ball.

It was a lot lighter than she had expected and it soared through the air.

Sinbad gave a little squeal of delight, spun on a dime and hared after it. He burst into a canter, showing off his thoroughbred lineage, and tackled the ball. His front legs splayed over it and he threw his head down to catch it in the crook of his neck rather than tumble straight over it. He slithered to a halt, scrambling with his hind legs and reversed off the ball.

Ruby was in hysterics. Her arms wrapped around her middle, doubled over laughing at such a big animal acting like a teeny puppy.

Sinbad nipped at the ball with his teeth until he got a grip of it and then he hoisted it up off the ground. He flounced into a high legged trot and carried the ball for a few yards before the high steps of his forelegs kneed the ball out of his mouth.

He reared and danced forward on his hind legs in affront at the ball daring to do such a thing. He trotted after the ball, butting at it with his nose, and then stopped. He watched it roll back to Ruby and tossed his head up with a snort.

Ruby chuckled, biting her lip between her teeth, then gave the ball another kick.

Sinbad came charging towards it, head-butting it hard enough to send it bouncing and then chased after it again.

Ruby finally broke and darted in, catching the ball and hurling it up over Sinbad’s head to bounce off his back end and careen away from him.

He spun on his heels, giving chase and terrorised that ball into submission with kicks of his legs and nips of his teeth.

Ruby snatched it from under his nose again and kicked it the length of the field.

Sinbad whinnied happily at his tiny new playmate and tore after the ball.

Regina, for her part, slowly coiled the lead rope back into its storage knot and watched Ruby hare up and down the paddock after both horse and ball. She snickered at all the jokes she could have made if only Ruby remembered that she was a werewolf and would understand the fetch references, but mostly she smiled because…because it was fun.

She sobered a little when she caught that idea and it saddened her.

This wasn’t real.

If they succeeded, if they broke the curse, Ruby would remember and this tentative acquaintanceship would dissolve back into old hatreds. She would no longer be this happy, carefree, waitress that could find joy in the simple act of chasing a horse and a ball about a field of sand. When Regina broke the curse, it would all come crashing down and this morning’s memories would be tainted…

For the first time, Regina regretted –truly regretted- what she had done to Ruby. Well, what she had done to Red.

It would seem that all she had ever done to _Ruby_ was order coffee from her and –now- become…a friend?

Well, the beginnings of one anyway.

Regina pressed her lips together and mulled over her options.

Well, the way she saw it, she could stand here and be miserable over something she couldn’t change and perhaps Ruby might pick up on it and misread it as displeasure at sharing time with the younger woman…or she could enjoy this for what it was.

Maybe she could be friends with Ruby. Red might hate her guts and everything else about Regina when she came back but –maybe- the part of her that was Ruby might remember this morning and smile.

Regina laughed when Sinbad tackled the ball, slid clean over it on his belly and tumbled to the ground in a spray of sand and a whinny of surprise.

Ruby skidded to a halt, gasping in fear that he’d hurt himself, but Sinbad righted himself and lurched to his feet in an instant. Giving himself a good shake, he kicked the ball back to Ruby and the game began anew.

Regina’s smile softened and this time there was only a trace of sadness in it when she realised that _she_ would always look back on this day with fondness.

She had to hope that maybe Ruby would too.

Just maybe.

 

**_Later…_ **

 

“Oh god,” Ruby flopped into a spare booth at the diner, “I’m pooped.”

Regina chuckled, looking down at her new…friend.

“Did you really spend ALL day at the stables with mom?” Henry looked down at Ruby, chuckling.

“Yes and _I_ did all the work.” Ruby flopped an arm over her head. “How can one animal produce so much crap?”

After playing with Sinbad all morning, Ruby had then been instructed on every other thing about looking after him that she needed to know. How to brush him, comb his mane, pick out his feet, how to saddle him and put on his bridle, how to _polish_ all that leather and finally how to muck out his stall, give him fresh hay and even how to mix up the special mash he got as a treat.

She was exhausted.

“I’m too feeble to do any mucking out.” Regina told her archly and shrugged from her jacket with no sign of discomfort or feebleness.

“You couldn’t be feeble if you tried, you Hugo Boss wearing harridan.” Ruby muttered and froze when she remembered who she was talking to.

She sat up in a hurry when Regina just laughed.

Not a chuckle, not a hum of amusement, but an honest laugh.

Ruby smiled when she realised she’d never heard that from her before. She’d seen the Mayor put on a show of a smile and she grinned sometimes for Henry but Ruby had never heard her laugh.

It was a nice laugh.

“I think you’ll find, this is Prada.” Regina informed her primly and took her own seat. Henry slid into the booth beside her and Ruby scrambled out of the way so Norman had somewhere to sit.

“C’mere, kiddo.” Ruby snagged him by the pouch of his hoodie when he moved to fetch a chair. “I need someone to hold me up.” Ruby draped an arm around his skinny shoulders and ignored his discomfort until he had to relax or grind his teeth into nothing.

“So, did we have fun today?”

Granny herself appeared at the table and eyeballed Ruby’s grubby but –for once- fully dressed state. Her granddaughter looked wrung out but she had the biggest, stupidest, grin in her repertoire stretching from ear to ear.

She looked…happy.

Ruby always smiled, part of the job, but she seemed to genuinely mean this one and her good mood poured off her.

Granny was a little sceptical and incredulous that the Mayor had been the one to bring all of this about just by spending the day with Ruby.

“We did and –apparently- we will be having fun every day for the rest of the week.” Ruby frowned a little at Regina. “I hope you realise this is going to turn my shifts upside down.”

“Horses do that.” Regina smirked, completely unrepentant. “I told you, it takes a lot of time and commitment. Say if you don’t want that now, before Sinbad becomes too attached to you.”

Ruby, rather predictably, looked stricken at the thought of never seeing her new friend again.

Even Regina was surprised at how well they had taken to one another. In the space of an afternoon, Ruby had completely lost her fear of the gentle giant and had been confidently moving about him and demanding that he lift his feet for picking then throwing herself into the task of brushing him down until his dusty coat shone.

Truth be told, the old gelding seemed to be equally smitten with her and –whilst Ruby might complain- Regina doubted she’d need much encouragement to drag herself to the stables at stupid o’clock in the morning -every morning- to care for him.

“No. No, I got it. I can do it.” Ruby nodded hurriedly and Regina looked up at Granny in time to see the older woman raise her eyebrows in surprise.

Ruby, _her_ Ruby, flinging herself into responsibility?

“Mom, can me and Norman come to the stables with you on Saturday?” Henry looked up at Regina and her brows rose in surprise.

“You want to? It’s a lot of hard work.”

“Ruby doesn’t seem to mind.” Henry nodded to the waitress and she grinned.

“Norman?” Regina looked to the other boy and Norman opened his mouth, probably to tell her that she shouldn’t because it was too expensive but he bit his lip instead.

“Maybe.”

“Ask Miss Cobbler tonight.” Henry grinned at his friend and sat up straighter. He looked up at Regina and tossed his head to flick his blue hair out of his eyes. “Can we have milkshakes? Please, mom?”

“Yeah, mom, please?” Ruby grinned at Regina and leaned down, hugging Norman closer until they were cheek to cheek. Norman flushed a little but joined in when she jostled him and grinned a huge cheesy grin. “ _Pleeeeeaaasse?_ ”

“Fine!” Regina laughed. “Fine. You may all have milkshakes. If you please, Missus Lucas?”

Granny’s eyes darted about the table and she arched an eyebrow at whatever the hell was going on and still on the fence as to whether or not she liked it. She amended that when Ruby crowed a laugh and threw her hands over her head.

“YUS! Milkshakes!”

Regina rolled her eyes but she was smiling.

“Chocolate and raspberry, I think. Five of them.”

“You gonna have two?” Ruby sat forward, her eyes going wide. “Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“ _No._ ” Regina scowled at Ruby though not entirely seriously. “Graham finishes his shift soon. I imagine he’ll be thirsty.”

He’d better be after she’d left him so hot and bothered this morning anyway.

“Ah, I see.” Ruby snickered and Granny just rolled her eyes, missing the in-joke apparently.

“Five milkshakes, coming up.”

“Thanks, Granneeey!” Henry, Ruby and Norman all chorused together.

Granny stilled a half step, her shoulders hunching a little and then carried on to the kitchen with a small shake of her head and a grumbled muttering.

“You’re all acting like children.” Regina informed them.

“We ARE children.” Henry frowned up at her.

“Ruby isn’t!” Regina waved at the younger woman who just grinned at her.

“But I’m still adorable.”

Regina huffed out a breath through her nose and stilled a half second before Graham appeared and pushed his way through the diner door (smirking when he saw the tape holding the cracked pane together until the glazier could come to fix it…again).

Henry scooted out of the booth without needing to be told and Regina went to meet her man.

Time to deliver her final blow.

“Hello, pet, did you have fu- -mmf!”

Graham was completely unprepared for Regina to fist both hands in the lapel of his jacket and tilt him forward until his mouth crashed down over hers. She leaned backwards a little, tilting her head to his, to balance them and deepened the kiss.

It didn’t last long, only long enough for her to make her point, and she drew away when his hands came down on her hips.

“Stop.” She spoke quietly and he froze a low groan of a growl coming out of him.

 She could barely be heard over the catcalls and whistles from the other patrons but every single one of his senses was attuned so intently to her that he couldn’t ignore a single syllable.

“That’s the last time I’m going to tell you to stop. I trust you, you’re not going to hurt me, I’m here for the taking. In your own time.” She smirked, went up on her toes, and bit him on the chin. “Hello to you too.”

Then she spun away and left Graham standing in the middle of the diner, his lip caught between his teeth and fire in his eyes. He blinked a few times to try and clear his head and huffed out a low breath when he realised he was done for.

In his own time.

Graham let loose another deep breath and cleared his throat hurriedly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Christ on a cracker, she was going to _end_ him.             


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, how absent I have been. 
> 
> Anyway, to make up for it HAVE ALL THE UPDATES!
> 
> Nothing of great worth happens in this chapter but hooooooo boy! For the next one ;)
> 
> Which shall hopefully be updated sooner than last time and be LONGER. 
> 
> Minds out of the gutter please.
> 
> Be prepared for much sexy times in the coming chapters, Graham has a lot of frustration to work out and then the plot cometh (promise, there is actually some in there somewhere...next chapter).
> 
> Y'all love me really.

**Chapter 17 – Doctor’s Orders**

**_The Hospital…_ **

 

“A doctor will be with you shortly, Madam Mayor.”

“Thank you, Sybil.” Regina mustered a smile for the nurse and the young woman in pink scrubs nodded to her and disappeared out of the private room, shutting the door behind her.

She had been a maid in Regina’s castle, back in the day, she’d been an apt student when it came to medicine. Regina had taught her how to clean and suture wounds herself. That and she knew when to keep her mouth shut. Considering the look she had given the box in Graham’s hands but the lack of comment made, a skill she had retained.

“How do you know her name?” Graham set the box of pups down on the floor. They were all bundled up together, sleepy after a morning’s romp with Henry before school.

“I make it my business to know the names of all my favourites.” Regina shrugged a shoulder and clipped her way over to the examination bench. Hopping up onto it, she folded one leg over the other and eyed him from under hooded lashes.

He was practically crackling with frustration.

He paced back and forth in the small examination room, his face tight to try and stop himself from scowling and snarling at everyone and he glanced at her often.

She was a constant temptation to him, she knew. She’d better be, she’d been consciously putting in a significant effort for the past week now and he was staunchly refusing to give in to what she knew they both wanted.

She had been true to her word. She hadn’t once told him to stop –quite the opposite in fact- since her promise in the diner. She’d been nothing but welcoming for the last seven days and leaned into every touch, returned every kiss, mirrored every stroke.

In short, she had been doing her level best to drive him wild and was more than a little disappointed that he hadn’t seen fit to grant her wish and loose himself on her to his absolute extreme.

Ever since their little escapade in the laundry room and how he’d ‘hurt’ her, he’d been terrified of losing control around her. Never mind that the past twenty eight years had compiled a great many such pleasurable times where he had inflicted nothing but wonderful things on her, he was certain that he’d snap her in half if he let go.

Oh, he’d been more than willing to satisfy her and she had never been so mellow in her life between him and the pain meds, but it wasn’t the _same_.

She ached for him to lose control and loose his entire self on her. Whether it was making love to Graham or being fucked into a wall by the Huntsman, he’d always done it with complete abandon and nothing more in mind than their combined and shared utter satisfaction…now, since he was aware, that was not the case.

Since he had remembered who she was…he didn’t want to.

Regina stilled a moment at that and then shook it off.

She wasn’t beaten yet.

To that end, she saw no reason that she shouldn’t use this quiet moment between them to drive him a little wilder.

Regina turned, lifting her legs up onto the bench and gripping the sides of it with both hands. She made a show of examining it one side and then the other, giving an experimental bounce to test the give of the padding and smirking.

“What are you doing?” His tone was somewhere between exasperated and genuinely curious.

“You know,” she began conversationally, “it’s of similar dimensions though distinctly more comfortable.” 

“Than what?”

“The coffin.” Regina continued glibly and gave another little bounce. It really was rather comfortable. She wouldn’t mind being taken on this at all.

Then again, considering how her teasing of him had just as much effect on her as it did him, she wouldn’t mind being taken on Main Street right now.

“If you still want to re-enact, this might not be a bad spot for it.” She swung her legs down over the side of the bench though did not cross them again. She smirked. “Besides, we’ve never had one another in the hospital, have we?”

Graham stilled in his prowling pace back and forth and looked her dead in the eye.

“The curse is breaking. People are beginning to remember between one day and the next. You’re not a quiet one, pet, we’d be caught.”

“Promises, promises.” Regina grinned wickedly and rested her hands on her thighs, sliding them down her legs towards her knees, leaning forward a little. “Being seen would only be faithful to original events, after all.”

Graham’s eyes tracked the path of her hands down her legs and his entire body tensed when her fingers spanned her knees, her thumbs sliding down to stroke over the inside of her thighs. She was wearing those painted on jodhpurs again.

“That would be as close as we could get to it, I think. I doubt anyone would stay for the entire performance. They’re a little bit more squeamish about that kind of thing over here.” Regina slid her hands back up her legs again, her tongue caught between her teeth as her thumbs travelled all the way to the crease of her thigh.

His eyes narrowed, he glanced at the door, then prowled towards her.

Regina smirked.

“Seriously?” His hands joined hers on her knees and gave an appreciative squeeze. “Right here and right now?”

“Why not?” She looked at him from under hooded lashes as he loomed over her.

“Your doctor may be running late, but not _that_ late.”

“I want you.” She dropped any teasing artifice, just the bald need she felt in her voice, and his eyes darted to hers. Holding her gaze.

His tongue traced over his lip and she resisted the urge to follow the motion with her own. He considered her a long moment and leaned into her.

“I shall have to be quick. There will be no finesse.” His hand slid snaked up her inner thigh and his fingers tangled in her hair but he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking down at the fastenings of her pants and she knew exactly what he was about to do.

“No.” She twisted away from him and pushed at his chest.

Graham halted immediately but didn’t pull away. He let loose a slow breath and tilted his head.

“Even you have to admit that those were mixed signals, pet.”

“I…I want _you_.” Regina pressed her lips together and struggled to put it into words. She, who knew over a thousand languages, couldn’t think how to tell him something and make him understand. “Not your hands, or your lips or your tongue but _you._ ”

“You have me, pet. Any time you want.” He frowned a little, his hand sliding back down over her leg to rest on her knee. His other lowering to stroke the soft hair at the nape of her neck.

“You’re not my plaything anymore. I don’t use you and toss you aside. At least…I don’t want to.”

“You’re telling me that you don’t enjoy what I do to you?”

“Of course I do!” Regina’s jaw clenched and she wrenched her head away from his hold so she could look anywhere but at him. “You… _service_ me and I feel practically boneless afterwards but it’s not…I don’t like you holding back. I learned to give my whole self to you in the time that I’ve been here and –since you learned who I am, since you remembered- you’ve stopped doing that. You…you hold yourself apart from me and it makes me feel…ugly.”

Her jaw clenched and she looked down at the floor. She felt stupid and embarrassed and clumsy and all of the things she hated being. It was made worse by the way her eyes burned and her chest ached with a weight that had absolutely nothing to do with the stitches that held it together.

“Ah, pet,” he cupped her face in both hands and drew her chin up so that she looked at him, his thumbs sweeping back and forth over her cheekbones, “every time I pulled away, it was to keep from hurting you and it seems I’ve failed in that. I’m sorry. It was never my intent to make you feel anything other than cherished.”

“Cherished?” She looked tentatively at him and he was struck with the sudden urge to drag her into his arms and kiss her senseless until she believed him.

“Aye, cherished.” He stroked her cheek again. “You are the most important part of my life. You are the point that must be unbreakable. I need you by my side, whole and healthy and being as you always have been; beautiful, dangerous and mine.”

“That is…one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.” Regina’s hand slid up from his elbow and her fingers loosely circled his wrist. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and her eyes dropped to his mouth before she managed to haul them back up again. “Do you mean it?”

“Aye, pet,” he chuckled and nodded, “aye, I mean it.”

“Hmm.” She hummed deep in her throat and her gaze dropped to his shirtfront. Her fingers resting on his chest and toying with the buttons there.

“I can see my words aren’t having much of an impact.”

“Well…” She shrugged helplessly.

She was about to try and stammer through some explanation as to how she wanted to trust him but a lifetime of experience in being lied to kind of put a crimp in that but then his mouth was on hers and she forgot even her own name.

Graham’s fingers tangled in her hair and he stepped as close as he could get to her without crawling onto the bench. She shifted, pushing herself towards him, kissing him back furiously, and revelled in the change.

These kisses were not like the restrained kisses of the week prior.

His tongue was in her mouth, taking charge, his lips flush against hers. His teeth nipped whenever he got the chance and he gave those toe-curling growls of his when she kissed him back with as much passion as he had for her.

His hand was still in her hair, angling her head to the way he liked best, but the other skated down over her sides, along her leg and to her knee.

He pulled her even closer to the edge of the bench, encouraging her to hook her legs around his hip, dragging them even closer together.

The bench was _just_ the right height. The hard length of his cock behind the fly of his pants dug into the heat between her legs, the bench held her up so his hands were free to roam all over her and the padding was firm but gave enough to be comfortable.

Seriously, she was buying one of these things and keeping it in her office.

His hands slid down over her back to her ass which he squeezed appreciatively. Walking his fingers back up to the waistband of her pants, he began to tug in teasing little jerks at the material of her cotton shirt that was tucked into them.

She hummed a pleased sound into his mouth, lifting her legs to bracket his knees with her hips and make room for her hand to slither down between then and grip his belt buckle.

_WHAM!_

Regina got such a fright from the door slamming with a cacophonous bang that she bit Graham hard enough on the lip to taste blood.

He growled a low and displeased sound at being interrupted and turned only his head to see who would dare try and pull him away from his queen.

Regina saw the Huntsman in the set of his shoulders and the tightening of his fingers on the bench and gripped his shoulders, squeezing in warning. He stilled and huffed out a measured breath before he rolled his shoulders and straightened a little away from her.

He did _not_ look away from the intruder.

“Who the hell are you?”

The presumed doctor, who had slammed the door so loudly that Graham now had to lick blood from his lip, raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

“I am Doctor Heller.”

“So?” Graham lifted his hands and Regina filled them with her own automatically. “The Mayor was to see Doctor Whale.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Doctor Heller prowled into the room with a powerful gait that made it clear that Graham might not be able to take him down without a fight if it came to that, “Doctor Whale is not the only practicing medical professional within this hospital, nor is he the best.”

“I like him.” Regina smirked and Graham growled.

He didn’t recognise this man. Not from any of his travels in the Enchanted Forest and Graham had gotten _around_.

He was older, appearing to be in his mid to late forties, with steel grey hair and a clipped warrior’s beard gracing his strong jaw. He had midnight blue eyes under dark brows, a sharp nose and cheekbones harsh enough to cut paper on. Even though he was in the middle of his life, he moved with a power and casual grace that made it clear he was far from past anything life threw at him.

He wore the prerequisite white lab coat but it was leather boots on his feet rather than shoes, dark jeans rather than slacks, a white shirt and a dark waistcoat.

Graham disliked him on sight and not least of all because Regina smiled at him.

“If you’re quite finished glaring at me for so rudely interrupting, I do believe Madam Mayor might like to have her appointment before she’s collecting social security.”

Graham narrowed his eyes and his ill mood was not appeased in the slightest by Regina giving him a little shove.

“Go on, you’ll just ruin any baseline readings that Doctor Heller attempts to take of my pulse if you stay here.”

He glanced at her and she smiled.

“I’ll be fine. Ruby is meeting me afterwards and we’re going to the stables.”

Graham hesitated a moment more and then took her jaw in one hand, tilting her chin up so her mouth was very close to his.

“I’ll meet you there to take you to pick up Henry and Norman.” It was not a request and Regina tried very hard not to shiver and give a little whimper of appreciation.

“I’ll meet you there.”

Graham grunted then pressed a hard but brief kiss to her lips before releasing her. He turned and bent, picking up the box of puppies and holding it deliberately low over his body. He gave another good scowl to Doctor Heller on his way out the door –which the good doctor held open for him- and disappeared.

Doctor Heller closed the door slowly and turned to look at her.

“Good morning.” Regina smiled at him.

“Going better than some than for others.” Heller agreed mildly. He shrugged from his labcoat from his shoulders and dropped it over the back of the chair by the cabinets.

Regina watched him with a mild interest and raised her eyebrows at him when he turned to face her once more, rolling his shirt sleeves back over his forearms.

“So…I take it that nobody in the outpatient clinic told you that conjugal shenanigans should be postponed until stitches are healed from thoracic ventilations?”

Regina blinked, the corner of her mouth quirking in a smile before she cleared her throat and tried to look at least a little repentant.

“I was on a lot of drugs at the time. In fact, I’m fairly certain that I had a conversation with a wolf at some point so-o…” Regina hunched her shoulders in a shrug and Heller huffed out a breath with a reluctant smile.

“I see that you have good range of motion at least.”

“Hmm.” Regina tried not to gloat.

“How far can you raise your arms over your head?”

Regina obediently raised her arms over her head to their full extension and clasped her fingers together.

“And to the side?”

Regina stretched her arms out to her sides at shoulder level and resisted the urge to launch into a rousing rendition of the _YMCA_.

“Behind your back?”

There Regina hesitated but she tried anyway and managed to lace her fingers together behind her back and straighten her arms a little before the tightness in her chest forced her to stop.

“Remarkable.” Heller murmured and frowned. He picked up Regina’s chart and flipped through the pages. His eyebrows rose. “Three weeks to the day since the wound occurred and you move as if you’re had more than twice that to recover.”

“Well, mother always said I should eat my vegetables.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. The curse may be breaking but she wasn’t overly worried at someone suddenly raising alarm bells over her apparently excessively robust constitution.

“Indeed.” Heller continued to flip through her paperwork and then pulled a stool over so he could lean back against it, clicking his pen into readiness and bringing his clipboard to bear. “And aforementioned many drugs? Are you still taking your full prescription?”

“Ah, no, I’ve weaned myself off the tramadol and I’m taking cocodomol every second dose rather than every time. I prefer not to take them at all unless the discomfort becomes pain.”

Heller nodded and made several notes.

“And how often does it become a pain? Every morning?” The question was asked with a studious innocence but Regina bit back a chuckle anyway.

“No, actually, usually it happens when I’ve been still for too long. I’ve found myself doing laps of the house between my rationed paperwork.”

“Rationed?”

“Graham doesn’t want me doing too much until I’m fully recovered.”

“That is not the impression I gleaned.” Heller muttered and Regina grinned.

“Are you back at work at all?”

“Usually only a passing visit to pick up urgent papers, make signatures that are required and to prioritise before leaving again. As I say, my movements are somewhat monitored.”

“Very closely it would seem.” Heller frowned and flipped back and forth between two pages before humming and making another scribble.

“So, stress does not seem to be a factor when it comes to the professional side of things. How about personally?”

“Personally?” There she became guarded.

“I refer to the attack. It was a traumatic experience. Are you having nightmares about it, panic attacks, dizzy spells? Is it disturbing your sleeping pattern? These are all questions I need to ask, Madam Mayor, I assure you that your responses will go no further than these four walls through any doing of mine.”

Regina considered him a long moment and looked at it from his perspective.

As far as he was concerned, she was a civilian. Not a practiced murderer or a war criminal that had gone into battle in no more armour than a corset, a pair of heels and some wicked eyeliner. He would see her as a ‘normal’ citizen of a quiet town and she supposed she _should_ have been terrified at Graham –of Graham- after he’d so violently –well- murdered her…but she wasn’t.

Regina frowned a little and turned that over in her head. A bit fucked up if she were honest. She should be cowering away from him, not trying to climb him like a tree at every opportunity.

She thought about his eyes when he’d come at her and…the emptiness. She worked down a shiver. She’d seen many things from Graham and the Huntsman both but she’d never seen such a vacancy of all emotion. He’d been running on pure reaction, swinging between one personality and the next in that haze between dreaming and awake and he’d…killed her.

“Doctor, what are the chances of resuscitating someone if they had died from a wound like the one I suffered?”

Heller’s brows rose and he leaned back in his chair. He propped his clipboard up on his thigh and draped both hands over the top of it.

“I am not sure of the mathematics behind such a chance but I know that it would be _very_ slim. Nigh unto impossible. Your pleural cavity was ruptured, your lungs in danger of collapse and only the knife plugging the wound prevented that. In addition, you lost a _lot_ of blood. Reading your chart here, I can tell you that I honestly have no idea how you survived. You _should_ have died. You should have gone into shock, your body shutting down, and –without massive blood transfusions, surgical intervention and heroic measures- you would not have been resuscitated had that been the case.”

“Oh.” Regina frowned and thought that over.

Graham had told her otherwise. He’d told her that her heart had stopped. That he’d managed to bring her back…but _how_?

“As interesting an intellectual exercise as that was, Madam Mayor, you’re not getting out of answering my question that easily. Do you feel traumatised by the attack? I can refer you to councillors if that is the case. I’m not just here to make sure your seams come undone and the stuffing falls out.”

“Charming.” Regina drawled at him and she was almost sorry that the doctor didn’t realise how much of an insult that was coming from her.

“I was under the impression you would not prefer it sugar coated.”

“True.” She allowed that and decided to try another bit of that honesty thing that she’d been experimenting with.

She’d been at it for a week now, as well as training herself to be a friend to Ruby, and it seemed to be going well. She sometimes put her foot in it, but Ruby usually laughed it off and thought it was Regina’s sense of humour rather than her capability of truly being that mean. In fact, Regina hadn’t lied about anything other than the curse since…hmm, she didn’t know when.

Some things were private of course, she was a private person, but she simply refused to speak of them or deflected the conversation rather than pulling a figment from her imagination and dressing it up as the truth.

If nothing else, it had turned into an interesting intellectual exercise.

“It has been difficult.” She admitted. “Sometimes my sleep is disturbed though if I have nightmares, I do not remember them.”

Heller nodded and made another annotation in her notes. She frowned, wondering what he was writing, and made a mental note to break in at some point to find out.

“What about fear? It’s understandable to be afraid after such an experience, but is it crippling? Do you find yourself drastically changing your behaviour in order to appease your anxiety? You said someone was coming to pick you up for an afternoon at the stables and then the Sheriff was coming to collect you to in turn take you to collect your son and…Norman.”

“And?”

“Is that your idea or theirs?”

“Definitely theirs.” Regina huffed out a breath. “I apparently need a minder at all times though I don’t feel that way myself.” She frowned as the thought about the Woodcutter. “I am…wary, I think is the best word for it. I’ve been reminded quite uncomfortably of my mortality as have those around me. It’s understandable that they would cling to me –I suppose- though they are sure to stop _just_ shy of it being cloying.”

She thought about the smothering her mother had put her under and she realised that must be the sole reason that Graham didn’t insist she go absolutely everywhere with him. She knew it cost him to let her out of sight, he had to worry when he couldn’t see her to ascertain she was fine, but he didn’t push for more than she could stand.

“Do you find that comforting?”

“Yes.” Regina was surprised by her own answer. She had never considered herself in need of comforting, not after surviving so long without it, but…yes, it was nice. To know they were there, her family, that she was not alone.

For the first time in a long time, she was not alone.

“Anything else? Any other worries?”

Regina’s mind immediately came up against the brick that was the Woodcutter in her head and bounced clean off. She huffed out a breath. She was not afraid of Graham, not at all, but she was fairly terrified of the Woodcutter.

“He’s out there.” Regina found herself saying quietly. “He’s out there and I don’t know where or what he’s doing or…I can only assume that he’ll come at some point to finish what he started and the thing I fear most is…”

Regina cut herself off and Heller just waited patiently.

“I’m afraid for the people around me. I can’t protect them. Not all the time. Going to collect Henry and Norman _is_ for me. I’m trying not to cling but…I need to know he’s safe. I need to know where he is. For now, at least.”

“Perfectly natural.” Heller shrugged his shoulders. “It’s human to feel that way, to want to protect your own. As a mother in particular. I have met few things in my life more terrifying than maternal instinct. You will learn to relax in time but –if you do not- talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be a professional, a friend or partner, but _do_ talk to someone if you feel the need.”

“I’m not much for talking.”

“I remember the Fourth of July speech; ‘Let’s blow stuff up and eat until we pass out’.” Heller smiled at her. “You say what you need to, that is the important thing. Now, I do believe that’s enough baring of the soul and now we must move onto baring of the flesh in order to see if this wound has healed as completely as you seem to feel it has. If you would open your shirt and lie back?”

Heller straightened up from his stool, set her chart aside and snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

He turned back to see Regina slinging her legs up onto the bench and reclining back against the angled section of the bench.

The rest of the appointment passed with relative ease. He found her wound to be healed far beyond what he had expected and found that the dissolving stitches had completely –well- dissolved. No sign of infection and the bruising had entirely disappeared.

He let her redress and set about taking her vitals, noting them down now that he thought he might get an accurate baseline reading and pondered something a moment.

“How does your wrist feel?”

“Fine.” Regina looked down at her cast and rotated her arm back and forth. Moving her wrist not at all. “Well, as far as I can tell. It doesn’t hurt certainly.”

“I think we can remove the cast and move onto a brace.” Heller nodded to himself. “I’d rather the muscles didn’t get the chance to atrophy.”

“That would be pleasing to me also.” Regina drawled at him and he smirked.

He wrote her a note, handed her coat to her and dispatched her to the outpatient clinic to have a saw taken to her arm.

He watched her go and frowned.

She left him…unsettled.

He should not be unsettled, as a doctor, he should be glad of such a comprehensive recovery from one of his patients. She was as healthy as anyone had a right to be after such an injury and that was perhaps the most disturbing thing of all.

She _should_ still be on enough drugs to knock out a horse. She _should_ be in need of wearing a dressing that needed changed often and she certainly shouldn’t have the range of movement of the average semaphore conductor and her libido should still be in the negative numbers after such an attack.

That was another thing, he’d been a doctor for decades and he’d come across many patients after a traumatic experience and not a one of them had spoken with such honesty when it came to being well after the fact.

Still, he had looked the Mayor right in the eye and –when she had said she was little more than wary, worried more for her own son and partner than anything else- she had been telling the truth.

She should be crawling the walls and having nightmares. He had fully expected to come to the appointment and have her demand drugs of him to sedate such anxieties and he was quite surprised to find that she had steadily been weaning herself off the drugs that she had been on in the first place.

Doctor Heller closed the door quietly and mulled it over.

He had assisted in her surgery himself, he had seen the wound, he had personally removed the huge hunting knife from her sternum…he remembered thinking at the time that she’d be in recovery for well over a year, mentally if not physically.

Not so.

Still, Heller shook it off. She was well, healthy and hale and he decided that was all that mattered. If she healed quickly then she healed quickly, if she was genuinely not traumatised then she wasn’t.

That was all that mattered.

He still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on here than he could see.

 

**_Later…_ **

 

“Free at last.” Regina murmured to herself as she left the hospital through the main doors.

Her head was ducked, admiring her new brace and flexing her hand and wrist carefully. It was a simple reinforced black canvas affair with many Velcro straps that she had been told could only be removed for bathing and she should still wear it all the time.

Still, she was probably less likely to brain herself with it with a casual move as she had been with her cast.

She wasn’t very practiced at being injured, of course. Back in the Enchanted Forest, there had always been an abundance of magic to take care of such things and she’d never been in recovery for long, even with broken bones.

Regina lifted her head and looked up at the sky as she stepped out from under the hospital entryway shelter.

It was a beautiful day, the sky a deep blue and the sun shone brightly. There was a warm breeze that meant she carried her jacket rather than wore it and the scent of spring was in the air.

Perhaps that was why she felt so frisky.

She smirked. Then again, that could be because she had just _officially_ been given the all clear from no less than three medical practitioners that she could do whatever bedroom acrobatics she wanted.

She’d even had one of them write it down.

Regina caught her tongue between her teeth and chuckled at the memory of Sybil’s face when she’d asked for the note. The nurse had looked at her for a long moment, the corner of her mouth had twitched once and then she’d announced that she’d go and get a pad and paper.

Regina _liked_ Sybil.

Regina was so distracted with thoughts of what exactly she was going to do to Graham as soon as Henry was asleep that night that she walked smack into someone and bounced clean off with a grunt.

“Madam Mayor!”

Regina was caught before she could even open her mouth to snarl at whoever had walked into her (even if it had been her that hadn’t been looking where she was going, she had important things on her mind after all). She steadied by strong hands on her elbows and she summoned a smile when she saw who it was.

“Doctor Heller, we must stop meeting like this.”

“When you are distracted?” Heller smiled a little and Regina chuckled.

“A kind word for it.” Regina looped her arms in front of her and slung her jacket over them. She saw smoke plume through the air and glanced down at his hands. “A bad habit, doctor. Not the type to practice what you preach?”

“Well, we all have our vices.” Heller dipped his head to her in a nod and then lifted the cigar to his mouth and took a draw. He moved to stand downwind of her and exhaled the smoke into a plume away from her.

“I suppose smoking isn’t all that terrible then.” Regina nodded her head and was about to turn away when Ruby beat her to it.

“Regina!”

She turned to see Ruby jogging towards her, a grin on her face and her car keys jangling from her hand.

“I’ve been waiting, what were they doing in there, cutting your arm off and putting a new body on?”

“They had to rev up the jaws of life to release me from my plaster prison.” Regina smiled and lifted her arm to show off her new brace.

“Ah, freedom.” Ruby smiled and it stilled on her face when she looked beyond Regina to her companion. “Uh, well, hello.”

Regina blinked at the reaction and rocked back on her heels to look between her young friend and her doctor.

Heller was covering it better, but he looked just as poleaxed as Ruby did.

Regina smirked.

“Ruby, this is Doctor Heller. Doctor Heller, meet Ruby Lucas.”

“Pleasure, Missus Lucas.” Heller stepped forward and offered his hand to Ruby and she seemed to be dragged forward almost against her will to accept it.

“Not yet.” Ruby spoke clearly without meaning to and then her eyes widened. “I mean, no, I mean, it’s Ruby. Just Ruby no ‘us’. I mean, at the end of the missus, it’s just ‘miss’.”

She swallowed hard and forced herself to stop talking, shooting a small glare at Regina’s knowing smirk.

“Miss Ruby Lucas.” Heller hummed deep in his throat and reluctantly let go of the young woman’s hand. “Good to know.”

“Have you not met before?” Regina asked innocently.

“No. I would have remembered.” Heller spoke to Regina but never looked away from Ruby who seemed to be swinging between the need to fan herself and run screaming for the hills due to crippling embarrassment.

“Really? I thought everybody knew Ruby.” Regina hummed. “She does work at the diner after all.”

“Which diner?” Heller asked Ruby.

“Uh, _the_ diner.” Ruby frowned a little. Like any other shack in this town could offer meaningful competition to Granny’s cooking. “Granny’s on Main.”

“Ah, I’ve never been a patron.” Heller’s tongue ran over his teeth and he smiled. “At least now I know where I’m going for dinner. I finish at seven, see you there?”

“Uh…”

“Yes, she’s working tonight.” Regina supplied helpfully.

“Excellent.” Heller nodded to Ruby and then Regina. "Miss Lucas, Madam Mayor, until next time.”

Then he turned and walked away, disappearing onto the gardens of the hospital, presumably to finish his smoking break and gloat over the fact that –forty seven or not- he still had it in him to reduce a woman to a stammering wreck.

Especially such a pleasing woman as Ruby Lucas.

“What’d you do that for?!” Ruby whacked Regina on her good arm.

“What?!” Regina laughed.

“You practically invited him around for dinner!” Ruby waved after Mister Tall, Dark, Broad Shouldered and Was He Really Too Old For Her.

“Well, it wasn’t like you were going to.”

“Granny’s going to pitch a fit.” Ruby huffed out a breath. “Especially after you went and gave him the wrong idea.”

“What? That Granny’s is a fine establishment and he should patronise it for the food alone and never mind the eye candy?”

“That is…! I’m not eye candy.”

Regina tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m not ONLY eye candy.” Ruby folded her arms over her chest defensively. “Granny’s been letting me do the tills and the books and stuff. I’m not just a waitress anymore.”

“Oh, Ruby, I didn’t mean it that way.” Regina sobered a little. “Though Doctor Heller gives the impression of being a gentleman, I’m sure if you tell him that you won’t accept any overtures he may or may not make that he’ll respect your decision… _if_ you won’t accept them.” Her lips quirked and it ruined the innocent façade she was trying to keep in place.

“He’s too old for me.” Ruby scowled at her.

“That just means he’s experienced. It’s little wonder to me that you can’t find a man you want to keep if you keep picking inexperienced boys.”

“You make me sound like a cougar!” Ruby threw her hands up.

“Hey, of either of us, _I_ am far more likely to be a cougar.” Regina laid a hand over her chest and smiled at Ruby.

“That’ll never happen. We’d never find the remains if Graham caught wind of it.” Ruby jerked her head in indication for Regina to follow her back to her car.

“He’s not that possessive.” Regina frowned and Ruby whirled around to walk backwards so Regina could get the full effect of her incredulous stare.

“You’re kidding, right? For a while, he was jealous of _me_.”

“He was not.” Regina shook her head.

“Totally. Was.” Ruby raised her eyebrows and nodded to show her utter seriousness. “I kept getting grilled, the first couple of times we went to the stables and he only let up when I told him flat out that I was straight. And even then I thought I was going to get an earful because I _didn’t_ find you attractive because who the hell wouldn’t?!”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Regina just smirked and Ruby huffed out a breath.

“My point is that Graham’s been like a wolf that someone’s tried to take a fillet steak from for the past _week_ and he’s only on his best behaviour when you’re around.”

“Really?” Regina mulled that over.

“Definitely.” Ruby looked harassed. Evidently she’d been getting the brunt of it.

“I think I have an idea.” Regina hummed deep in her throat. “Would you take me back to the manor and take a rain check on the stables? I have something to take care of.”

Ruby stopped and looked at her for a long moment. Her brow drew down in a scowl.

“You’re totally going home to pull a nooner, aren’t you?”

“That would be irresponsible of me.”

“Uh-huh.” Ruby shook her head and turned away, waving at Regina to follow her. “Come on then, you freakin’ hussy.”

Regina just chuckled and followed Ruby to her car.

 

**_A Short Drive Later…_ **

 

Regina waved to Ruby as she honked the horn of her car and drove off.

Turning to the door, she dug into her purse to rescue her keys from the dark depths and fished out her cell phone too. She opened the door and called Graham with the cell caught between her ear and her shoulder.

_“What is it, pet?”_

Regina grinned a slow grin when she heard the frustration in his voice. Obviously being interrupted that morning was the final straw.

“Well, I’ve just arrived home from the hospital…”

_“Why? I thought you were going to the stables. Is everything okay?”_

“Everything’s fine.” She hurried to assure him. “In fact, everything is better than fine. I’ve been given a clean bill of health.”

She listened to the silence as he absorbed that and frowned when she didn’t get a response.

“And I’m at home.” She dropped her purse onto the hallway table.

Still no response.

“And I’m taking my clothes off.” She kicked off her shoes.

“Graham?”

“ _I’m in the car._ ”

Regina grinned and heard the revving of an engine.

Oh, this was going to be good.                 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 – FINALLY!**

**_The Manor…_ **

 

Graham stalked into the manor and his pale green eyes found her shoes first.

One kicked off after the other, her purse dumped alongside her keys on the hallway table.

Prowling deeper into the house, he found her jacket crumpled on the floor, a sleeve pointing to the stairs. Taking his cue from there, he tracked her sweater next on the third step up, her tank top on the eighth and her bra hooked over the banister at the top by one strap.

His eyes glittered, scanning for the next mark of her trail and he moved as silently as a shadow along the hallway, grinning when he came across those painted on pants of hers. He was surprised to see that she hadn’t had to cut the seams in order to get out of them.

The bedroom door was open when he arrived and he twisted his head and shoulders through the gap, without ever touching it, to see inside.

He froze when he felt the knife under his chin.

“You took your time.” Regina all but purred for him and the heat that had been a low thrum in him flared into a fierce burn. He moved to shove the door fully open and catch her up in his arms but she lifted the blade. “Ah-ah!”

Graham reluctantly stilled, the blade so keen and so close that it had scraped some of his stubble away. It was one of his knives, so sharp that it would bleed him before he even realised he’d been cut.

“In you come.” The point of the knife led him into the room by his chin and he couldn’t turn to look at her because of it.

He let loose a low and displeased growl at being robbed of her for even two minutes more but she was well versed in curbing his more violent tendencies.

“Temper, temper,” Regina spoke mildly, “however am I going to calm you?”

“I have a few suggestions.” He ached to turn, slap the knife away –likely earning a cut to his jaw in the process- and tumble her to the floor. He quivered with the need to have her.

“I’ll bet you do.” She chuckled and the knife slid around his neck, ghosting over his skin until it rested at his nape just below his hairline.

He stiffened when there was a rush of cool sensation down his spine and his waistcoat, shirt and the tank he wore beneath it just…split. He blinked when his clothes suddenly gaped from his back and rumpled on his arms, crumpling away from his chest.

“Off.” Regina ordered him quietly, like she hadn’t just come to within a hair’s breadth of slashing him to the bone.

A shiver went through him when he realised –magic or no- she was still _incredibly_ dangerous.

And she was all. His.

He pulled at his ruined clothes, stripping himself to the waist with a couple of quick tugs of material. He went still when the knife returned to his throat and her teeth came down on his shoulder. She bit him. Hard.

A groan ripped from him entirely involuntarily. Then her chest was against his back, silky hot skin pressed against his, her teeth still bruising his shoulder and her free hand sliding around his waist to deftly find his belt buckle.

Graham’s chest heaved, each breath so deep that his shoulders rose and fell with it, tugging against her teeth bruising deep into his skin. He squirmed a little, tugging against her and shivering when the hand busy with his pants finally succeeded in snapping them open and rasping the zipper down with a torturously slow pace.

He moved to help, to shove them down so he could kick out of them but she angled his chin upward and to the side with the knife, forcing him to bare that side of his neck to her. She sank her teeth into that sensitive skin next and his hips thrust against her when her free hand delved inside his pants and pressed hard against the iron bar of his cock.

“Fuck!” His hands clawed with the need to hold her and he growled when her palm ground against the head of his cock, her fingernails dragging over the throbbing shaft through his shorts. “Woman…”

She chuckled, sinking her teeth harder into him and then releasing him. She licked at the skin, scraped red raw, and pressed a kiss to it before turning her head to smooth her cheek against the plane of his shoulder blade. Her silky hair tickled him and a quiver raced over his skin.

“Yes,” she spoke innocently enough but her words were calculated so as to drive him to his wildest, “husband?”

He snarled, slapping the knife away and he was on her before she even fully processed what had happened. He snatched her up off the floor and hurled her onto the bed, on top of her before she could even bounce and he batted the knife from her grip before one of them could be gutted by it.

“ _Mine._ ” The word rumbled out of him, more a growl that sounded like English through coincidence than anything else.

He snatched her throat in his teeth, biting so hard that he could and did lift her shoulders up off the bed with his teeth in her neck. His hand snaked between her legs and he plunged two fingers into her without preamble. She gave a little scream that he knew had nothing to do with pain and his thumb ground down over her clit. She was _so_ wet.

Wet and tight and hot and all his. Only his. Never anyone else’s. He growled, satisfied at that thought though it could only tide him over for a moment.

More. He needed more.

She bucked against him, pulling on his teeth in her neck, her nails scoring deep red lines into his shoulders and back. Her hips lunging up against his, her hand burying in his hair and pulling sharply, nails scraping his scalp.

Regina squirmed and screamed and bit and clawed and he just would not let _up_. She found herself arching beneath him, screaming her orgasm, before she even knew what was going on.

He pulled his hand from her, kneeing her legs apart and making space for himself between them. He hoisted her towards him with a hand under her knee and his cock plunged into her before she had even finished clenching from her orgasm. She gasped, nails punching into his back, dragging bloodied scratches into his skin.

His hips hammered against hers, filling her, burying himself to the hilt over and over. Her eyes rolled back in her head but she fought to keep up with him. The past week of being on the receiving end might have spoiled her but she wanted him entirely hooked on her again. Completely unable to deny her whatever she wanted.

Fortunately, all she wanted was him.

 She fisted her hand in his hair, wrenching his teeth from her neck with a scoring of teeth over skin. She pulled his mouth down over hers, kissing him like she wanted to inhale him, scissored her legs around his hips and bucked up to meet every single one of his thrusts. She twisted her hips back and forth, rolling up against him and exerting every single kegal trick that she knew of.

He came calling her name.

His back arched, ramming himself as deeply into her as he could go, and he shivered all over. He quivered, rolling his hips against her, cock twitching and little jolts running through his entire body in the aftermath of the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had.

He collapsed down, catching his weight on his elbows and dropping his head down so that his forehead rested against her chest. He licked at her slick skin, tasting her salt, and growled. His hips still rolled against hers, slowly thrusting still and her eyes opened when she realised…

“You cannot possibly be ready to go again already.” She dipped her chin to look at him and all she got in return was glittering eyes, a white slash of a grin and a rumbling chuckle.

“Challenge accepted.”

Regina yelped as she was suddenly flipped onto her front and he pulled her up onto her knees. Powering back into her in one long, sweet, lunge.

His hand fisted in her hair, forcing her spine to dip and he snarled, settling in to give her the fucking of her life.

She wondered for a moment if she should regret calling him home and letting him lose his mind.

She groaned when he gave a sudden heft into her and stars burst hot and cold up and down her spine.

Regret?

 

**_Enchanted Forest, First Anniversary of Leopold’s Death…_ **

 

The Queen stalked around her dead husband’s coffin, a single black rose in her hands. She toyed with the sharp thorns and considered the huge marble casket on the dais in one of the courtyards in the castle.

It was tradition to have the casket lain out for mourners to pay their respects, of course. It had been set here so that the adoring masses could do just that but she’d never –after the prerequisite week of mourning- had it taken away to the royal family’s mausoleum.

She liked to look upon it. Liked to think on his mouldering corpse inside. Liked to think on how she had been responsible for it being there in the first place.

No. She had not ordered that it be taken away.

She much preferred to display her trophies.

She looked down at the rose in her hands, she had taken it from the bouquet that some brave and foolish soul had lain on the coffin. Perhaps someone at the behest of Snow. Someone still loyal to the dead king.

Well, obviously they hadn’t known him very well.

The Queen felt out of sorts. Usually prowling here or in her gardens soothed her but…not today.

Her scouts had reported nothing of Snow’s whereabouts and there was a murmuring of war to the East. Something ill festered in George’s kingdom and –whilst hers was by far the largest- that simply meant she had more borders to protect, more people to lose and –due to Leopold’s _idiocy_ \- a practically non-existent standing army.

War was coming, a war she could not stop, not as she was. She needed more power. She needed more magic. She needed to be better, harder, stronger. She must become an unstoppable force that would drive all invaders from her lands before they ever crossed the borders.

She would have to become what they whispered of her. The name the peasantry muttered darkly in the taverns at night.

For who would risk the wrath of an Evil Queen?

Aside from the idiots that surrounded her on all sides of course. She rolled her eyes and then her teeth bared in a snarl. She seethed out a breath, her mood going from irritable to truly foul.

The Queen turned, intending to set the bouquet of blackened roses on fire.

She froze before the magic even sparked to her fingertips when she saw her Huntsman crouched _on top_ of the coffin.

He was balanced nimbly on his toes, resting on his heels, the toes of his boots crushing the flowers beneath his weight. He held one of them in his hand, turning it back and forth and studying it as if he had never seen it before.

“Huntsman.” She greeted him coolly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Studying.” He answered mildly and she resisted the urge to just swat him off the marble casket.

It might make her feel better short term but her strength often made her forget about how breakable others could be. Her Huntsman, whilst more durable than most, would shatter like a doll should she truly lose her temper with him and she had bargained with him that first night that she would grant him fair treatment whenever she was able.

She was able now.

“You’ve never seen a rose before?” She summoned something like a civil response.

“I have seen roses before.” His eyes met hers, frosted green clashing with mahogany black.

She tilted her head when she realised _who_ he had been studying. Her jaw clenched but he spoke before she could flay him with her tongue if not her magic.

“This place reeks of death. What is this?” He dipped his head to nod at the casket.

“It’s a coffin. It holds the body of my once husband.”

The Huntsman cocked his head. Calculating.

“You mourn him?”

“No.” She scoffed with a bitter laugh.

He hummed deep in his throat.

“Get down.” She ordered him and –far from obey- he considered her a moment more.

“Why?”

She arched a brow at him.

“If you do not mourn him then it should make no difference to you if I were to piss on his coffin rather than just rest upon it.” He propped his elbow on his knee and caught his chin in his hand, giving her a narrow eyed sly smile. “One might think, even without the throne, he still rules this castle.”

“ _I_ rule this entire kingdom, Huntsman,” the Queen snarled, “and your heart along with it.”

“True.” The Huntsman shrugged and looked out over the courtyard. “Though his corpse still holds pride of place.”

“It is a reminder.” The Queen snapped. “Of what happens to people that wrong me.”

“I do not think that is what it reminds you of.” The Huntsman mused and continued when her glare grew in intensity. “This is his space now. You visit it. It would seem, my Queen, that you do not run the _whole_ kingdom. Not so long as he still lingers here.”

Her impressive chest heaved with seething breaths but –he could tell- she was most angry because she thought him right.

“Truly.” She gritted after a long moment.

He wasn’t sure what she was agreeing with. Him or whichever dark thought it was that slunk through the twisted maze of her mind in that moment.

The Queen studied the casket for long moments and hummed deep in her throat.

“Destroying this will not be enough.” She murmured, trailing a sharp nail over the polished marble.

“The territory must be reclaimed.” The Huntsman agreed mildly and hopped down off his heels to sit idly on the edge of the coffin, his legs dangling over the side. He smirked.

“Hmm.” She began to stalk around the coffin once more. Studying it from all angles. “How do you suggest, Huntsman, that I reclaim memories? Retake sins long since past?”

“I am a poor advisor for such things. Wolves have three responses for most of the things that invade our territories but then we are simple creatures.” He lounged back on his hands and swung his heels against the marble. His boots scuffed the stone and smeared stains of mud here and there. “Humans tend to be far too complex for such simple action.”

“And what actions are those?” She seemed amused more than anything else and drew to a halt in front of him. She looked up at him and –like that- she looked more tempting than she ever had before.

She was beautiful. She knew that, he knew that, the whole fucking kingdom knew it, but there was just something _about_ her that had him practically drooling for her no matter how terrible she was to him. The way her eyes glittered as they roved over his naked body when they slept together at night (and sleep –frustratingly- was all they did). The way she smirked when he brought some half dead criminal to her for justice at her hand. The dark wilderness of her soul that was as wild and untamed as the Blackwood from whence he’d come.

It should have horrified him, that part of him scented her as _home_ , but he was helpless to resist. It had been a LONG time since he had felt at home, comfortable in his own skin. A long time since he had come across someone just as dark and broken and twisted as himself.

She had never bid him to do anything other than hunt and kill and chase for her. He was her bodyguard -true- they shared a bed –also true- but that was all. If she wanted anything more of him, she had never said as much and, he knew in his bones, that she would never command it of him.




He had been in her clutches for nearly a year, a year tomorrow in fact, and he had realised that he had desired her in the way that men desire women for…quite some time. He had no idea when it had happened or when he had even realised it but it remained that he wanted her more than he wanted to breathe.

“Is one of those actions to do nothing at all?” The Queen arched a brow and chuckled at him and he decided not to prowl around the undergrowth about it anymore.

“Well, to claim or reclaim what we want, we do one of three things.”

“I await them with baited breath.” If she had been anyone else, she would have been teasing.

“We fight it.”

“I don’t think a casket will put up much of a resistance.” The Queen studied the coffin as if to double check.

“We feed on it.”

“Needs salt.” She mused.

“Or we fuck it.” He looked down at her and watched her blink.

She watched him for a long moment and then her head rocked back.

“So your tastes run to…cold stone.”

“My… _tastes_ ,” he ran his red tongue over white teeth, “are dark women with fearsome smiles and a hungering nature. I did not say you were claiming _him_ I said you were reclaiming this territory. On your own terms.”

He had leant down so they were almost nose to nose. Her pupils were dilated, her pulse beating at her throat, he could smell her heat. Practically taste her.  His teeth sank into his lip rather than tumbling himself from the coffin to brand them to her throat. He forced himself to suck in a controlling breath and remain exactly where he was. He didn’t have the strength to pull away but he had enough to stay where he was.

“Hmm.” She hummed something like a derisive chuckle. “My own terms…even then, my satisfaction could only be of a darker nature.”

The Huntsman frowned, tilting his head.

She turned away from him sweeping towards the end of the coffin. He coiled his feet up onto the coffin and rolled forwards into a crouch. He stalked after her on all fours, eyes glittering at the prospect of such desirous and delicious prey in his sights.

Prey that would hunt him back if he could only convince her to see that she wanted to.

“He did not care for you in that manner?”

She whirled back to him, surprised when she saw him crouched on the very end of the casket, balanced on his fingers and toes and leaning out so that his mouth was within inches of hers.

“He did not care for me at all.” She finally found her voice, irritable that he had startled her.

“Then he was not your husband.” The Huntsman snorted and leaned back so that he towered over her, crouched on the end of the coffin. “No male lets his female go unsatisfied.”

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “I used to believe that too.”

“Believe what?” The Huntsman leaned forward to brace his weight on his hands again.

“That satisfaction amongst husband and wife might be…mutual.”

The Huntsman bared his teeth and snarled.

“I have never lied to you. Not since you took my heart. I do not lie for this.”

The Queen heaved a long suffering sigh and rubbed at her forehead with two fingers.

“I’m in no mood for this.”

“That could be changed.” His smile was a wicked challenge. His tongue ran over his sharp teeth. “Come to me and I shall prove it to you.”

“Up there?” She waved at the coffin with her rose and he leaned forward, gripping the stem in his teeth and pulling it from her.

He grinned around the rose caught between his teeth and then tossed it away with a flick of his head. He turned back to her once again, eyes glittering in that way they did when she set him on a trail to catch something or someone for her. He was…hunting her.

“Do you pursue me, Huntsman?”

“Every day.” His grin broadened into a sharp smile.

She frowned.

“Even should you have the ability to –hmm- _satisfy_ me, I shall not let you go.”

“Nor I you.” He promised and her frown deepened. She didn’t understand him at all sometimes.

“I am your jailor.” She snapped, reminding him. “You should not want me at all. I should repel you.”

“And yet, should you but climb up here with me, you will know what I want.” His eyes gleamed slyly. “Intimately.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away from him. He snarled at the dismissal.

“Afraid?!”

She ground to a halt, her spine turning to steel and –slowly- she turned to face him. Her eyes sparked with magic and her black painted lips peeled back over white teeth. He met her glare for glare.

“I am not your _weak_ , useless, _worthless_ husband. I am the Huntsman. I am wolf. I am yours.” He snarled at her again. “Take me if you can.”

Even he was surprised with the agile animal bound that carried her across the distance separating them. She landed on the end of the coffin and uncoiled to her feet like a black lace serpent. She bared her teeth and hissed at him.

“I fear no man.”

“What about a wolf?” His hand fisted in her skirt. “I am no mere man. You will be marked, my queen, I shall pursue you to my satisfaction,” he began to tug at her skirts, “and yours.”

He liked this dress. It was not as thick, layered with leather and lace and corsetry, as her others. It was mostly black but very nearly indecent. A swirling semi-transparent lace that covered her from neck to ankle. The pattern was that of spiralling leaves of reds, ambers and golds. They swirled over the dress, thickening around the curves of her breasts and dripping from her navel in a rain that just barely offered and idea of modesty.

The only jewellery she wore was a serpentine crown coiled around the thick knot of her glossy hair. It was a sharp scaled snake with a head at each end rather than a tail.   

“You seek to own me too?” She smirked though she did not miss the way his hand slipped beneath the black lace of her dress. “Impossible.”

“You will never crave another,” his hot hand slid over the smooth skin of her calf and he grinned when her breath caught at the contact, “nor I.”

“We are not lovers.” She inhaled deeply when his hand glided over the back of her knee to her thigh.

“Yet.” His other hand joined the first beneath her dress. Skating up the side of her leg, scraping those deceptively sharp nails of his over her skin in red hot zinging lines.

“Confident, aren’t we?” She tried to stop herself panting but it was a losing battle.

Where did this come from? Leopold’s touch had made her skin crawl. Every time. Even Daniel’s touch had been warming to her but that had been borne of their love, the passion of youth. This…this was different.

The skin in the wake of the Huntsman’s touch was prickling and hot. Heat pooled low in her belly, her blood pounded molasses thick through her veins and her heart hammered in her chest, kicking so fiercely that she thought it might break free of her body. She tried to control her breathing. He hadn’t even done anything yet.

His fingers caught in her underwear, dragging them torturously down over her legs and urging her to step out of them. She tangled her fingers in his hair for balance, they tightened when he gripped the back of her knee and urged her to lift her leg, draping it over one of his shoulders.

The action forced the silken lace of her skirt so slide up over her thigh and gather at her hip. He bit hard on her inner thigh, stinging red marks that she knew would bruise but she just couldn’t care for. He pushed at her skirts again, baring her to him and she shivered when his hot breath gusted against the wetness between her thighs.

He leaned towards her and her hand tightened in his hair until she must have pulled strands free and he growled in a low rebuke.

“I thought you feared nothing?” He licked softly at her inner thigh and she groaned her head falling back.

Her fingers loosened on his hair and he buried his face between her thighs before she might change her mind again.

A groan was ripped from her when his tongue lapped from the dripping well of her entrance up to drag hot and strong over her clit. She shivered violently, all the air leaving her and he chuckled into her, nipping at her with his teeth. She jolted at the hot sting but his tongue plunged deep into her before she could muster a rebuke.

She quivered over him, struggling not to just melt into a boneless pool of ragged pleasure when she revelled in sensations she’d never had before. Those that she had never even known had existed.

He seemed to sense her instability and his hand slid up over her back to keep her upright as he continued to lick and kiss and bite and otherwise drive insane.

She cried out when his free hand slithered between her legs and he slid one broad finger deep inside her, thrusting it in and out and leaving her gasping.

“More.” The demand fell from her lips before she even had time to think of self-control.

 She would have berated him, pulled away and slunk off to try and pretend that he hadn’t reduced her to a begging wreck, but then he did as was bidden and a second finger slid into her alongside the first. His teeth gripped her clit and his tongue lashed her.

“Gods! More.”

Both her hands tunnelled into his hair, sharp nails scraping his scalp, and she rocked her hips towards his mouth. Her head fell back, her back arching as something coiled tighter and tighter low in her belly. Hot and cold shocks raced up and down her spine and every muscle she had shivered in anticipation of she didn’t even know what.

Her answer came when he pushed a third finger into her, lapping hard at her clit with his tongue and curling all three fingers towards her navel inside her. He hit a spot deep inside her that set her thoughts aflame and snapped apart that tight coil low in her body. She screamed her back bowing back, her hips rocking hard against his mouth and he kept _going_.

The Queen shuddered over him, a weak whimper escaping her before she pressed her lips together to stifle herself.

The Huntsman nipped her clit with her teeth in rebuke for robbing him of one single part of her. Even if it was simply her voice wordlessly begging for mercy.             

   He kept her on that merciless plateau that drove her wild and brought her back to orgasm again without ever really letting her coming back to earth. Then again.

And again.

“Gods! Stop. I can’t…” She collapsed forward, scrambling at his shoulder to stay upright and he finally pulled away. Slowly sliding his fingers from within her and lapping a farewell kiss to her.

He let her leg slide from over his shoulder so she could stand on her own two shaky feet. Even if he did have to hold her hips to keep her upright and her nails bit into his shoulders through the leathers he wore so that she could hold herself up on quivering arms.

She stood over him, panting, cheeks flushed, lips parted and her eyes glassy with lust. Stray curls of hair had been worked loose of the sleek knot at her nape, sweat glistened on her skin and she had honestly never looked more comely to him.

The Huntsman –for his part- smirked smugly and looked pleased with himself. He licked his lips, lapping up the taste of her and savouring it. She tasted of…magic. Sweet, like burnt sugar, and somehow apples was mixed in there too.

He wanted badly to taste her again.

Still, he shifted uncomfortably, his cock as hard as a rock in his leathers and nearly folded in half by the unforgiving material. He shifted again and his teeth bared when that just seemed to make things worse.

He choked out a sound when the Queen sank down onto him, straddling him.

No. _That_ made it worse.

“You seem uncomfortable, Huntsman. Is something amiss?” She smirked, once more in control of herself, her tongue tracing over her lips and she was so close that she licked him as well. A shiver rent her when she could taste herself there too. “What do you want?”

The Huntsman could only summon a growl. He gripped at her hips and then scored his nails down over her sleek and strong thighs straddling his own. It took him a long moment to remember the human tongue and he looked at her with a look of such blatant and ravenous hunger that she would have been afraid had she been anyone else.

He rocked forward, as if to tumble her onto her back and fuck her until she screamed, but this was not about him.

She needed this. To take him. To reclaim what was taken from her.

He shook his head sharply, as if trying to clear water from his ears, and remembered the human language after a long moment.

“This is not about what I want.” He leaned forward again but this time it was to rake his teeth over the soft skin of her neck and nip the corner of her jaw in a way that made her gasp. “Take what you will, my queen. I give it freely.”

Her eyes glittered, the pupils dilating until they seemed to be entirely black and her fingers tangled in his hair.

“Then I’ll take you.” She growled into him, her mouth seizing his in a fierce and biting kiss.

The Huntsman growled in approval and his arms tightened around her body, crushing her close. He kissed her as violently as she did him and groaned when her hand slid between their bodies and she tore at the laces of his breeches. Her slim fingers slipped over the dripping head of his cock and she wrapped her entire hand around him.

She pulled away suddenly and the Huntsman very nearly whimpered at being robbed of her.

“You’re…” For a moment she looked uncertain and then shook the expression away. “Large.”

He panted, trying to process why that would be a bad thing and then he leaned forward again, nuzzling into her neck and biting at her ear.

“I will never hurt you.” He nibbled again. “No matter what you do to me, I shall never hurt you like this.”

She looked uncertain for a moment more and then shoved at his breeches. Pulling his cock free of them and sliding her fingers up and down his length in a manner that had him sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth with a hiss. He gripped her hips, intending to pull her onto him but halted himself again.

He pulled away from her hips and tried to just stroke his hands up and down her thighs.

She kissed him again, taking his hand in hers and drawing it up to her waist. She rose up on her knees and he helped her, lifting her until she could guide his cock into her.

The Huntsman held his breath, trying to control himself, shaking with the effort and let her sink down onto him at her own pace.

He growled a tortured sound and met her eyes when she stilled.

He panted, chest heaving but managed something of a smile.

“More.” He nodded, licking his lip. “More. Always more.”

She smiled a little, looking both relieved and pleased with herself and slowly sank down onto him until he was buried to the hilt deep inside her.

His hands flexed on her waist and his back arched, grinding another inch into her.

She gasped at the sudden heft and clutched at his shoulders, shivering and clenching around him. He tried desperately to control himself so that she might adjust to him and then found he needn’t when she flexed impatiently against him.

He huffed out a relieved sigh and pulled her up with his hands on her hips, guiding her into a rocking rhythm that gave her his full length with ever rise and fall of her body. She ground down against the base of his cock with every roll of her hips and whimpered into his mouth at the sensation when he gripped her by the hair and pulled her mouth to his again.

He tried to gentle himself, to hold back, to let her take him, but that was not who he was.

His arm cinched around her waist, pulling her down flush against him. His hips rocked up against her, giving her nowhere to go whilst he plunged his cock deep into her as far as it would go. He tried to be gentle, he did, but he was a wolf and wolves were ferocious in everything they did.

“More, Huntsman,” she purred for him between biting kisses, “I want all of you. Surrender to me.”

The Huntsman nearly howled at her given permission and rose up onto his knees at the same time as he dragged her down towards him. She jolted with a little scream when he lunged into her with brutal snaps of his hips. Her legs wound about his waist, pulling him into her, working with him.

Her hands slid under his shirt, clawing at his back. His teeth set to the material of her dress, shredding it with a shake of his head. He licked and bit and sucked at the bounty of flesh that was exposed. He ripped again, snarling with the action, and took her nipple in his mouth. He bit and tugged until she gasped his name raggedly.

She gripped his hair, pulling his mouth closer to her. Her breathing was harsh, her skin flushed and slick with sweat. She felt that tightening coil low in her body and hummed in anticipation of what it heralded.

The Huntsman leaned back, encouraging her to brace herself on his shoulders, his hands sliding under her ass, helping her to ride him. He buried his face into her neck, setting his teeth to that muscle that led from her shoulder to her neck and biting, nipping, trying not to sink his teeth in as he wanted to.

Her hand clapped onto his head and pushed him harder against her.

“Bite.” She commanded and he did.

She jolted, crying out, when his teeth sank into her. She ground against him, thrashing in the cage of his arms, tearing against the collar of his teeth…but not once did she feel trapped.

It was that thought that sent her over the edge.

He was hers and hers alone. He would not hurt her, she knew that, he was hers for the taking and not the other way around.

He was hers.

The Queen threw her head back, tearing herself from the Huntsman’s teeth and screaming as she came apart in his arms. All ten nails sank into his back and her legs locked around his hips as she clenched around him.

The Huntsman roared, finally able to let go, and plunged his cock deep into her. He pulled her closer to him, licking at the bite on her neck as his cock swelled and twitched inside her.

He groaned, deep and honest sounds of shivering pleasure. Sating himself in her, rocking against her still and stroking every inch of her that he could reach. He sucked the sweat from her skin over her breasts, rasped his tongue down her cleavage and dragged his nails down over the smooth skin of her back, over her hips and to the quivering muscles of her thighs.

He slowly sank back down to rest on his heels and panted, letting them both come down from such a ferocious high.

Her arms were looped loosely about his neck, her teeth nipping at his ear and then his cheek and then the hard line of his jaw.

He turned his head, nuzzling his nose against hers and then seizing her mouth in a drugging kiss when she stiffened as if to pull away from such intimacy.

She moaned pleasantly into his mouth, giving as good as she got with her devouring kisses.

When they finally parted for air, her forehead rested against his, her eyes were closed and she panted harshly against his mouth.

“Very good, Huntsman.” Her voice was a hoarse rasp and he knew his could not be much better. She winced as she straightened up against him. Straddling his lap as she was, she was taller than he. She went still when she looked over the top of his head. “Oh.”

“Hmm?” He wasn’t really interested, still stroking her from shoulder blade to knee.

“My, uh, guard is still…here.” The Queen bit the inside of her cheek and the Huntsman just chuckled wickedly. “Stop that.” She clawed her nails lightly over the back of his neck in rebuke.

“No.” He smirked up at her. “I’m too satisfied.”

“I can see that.” She drawled.

He grinned and she –reluctantly- smiled in return.

“Well, I suppose this confirms the rumours of us.” She looked directly at one of the guards as he tried –and failed- to subtly rearrange his uniform to fit more comfortably. The Queen tangled her fingers idly through the Huntsman’s hair.

The Huntsman grunted. He didn’t care. So long as the guards now knew for definite that she was off. Limits.

“Again.”

“Again?” She arched a brow at him. In her experience, once was usually more than enough.

“Again.” He nodded, kissing her neck.

She was silent a long moment. Thinking. Letting him kiss his way up her neck to nibble at her ear. She rearranged herself back into her torn dress, mulling over his offer. His stroking hands slid down over the curve of her backside and squeezed appreciatively.

“Very well.” She gave a little groan as she shifted. “Though not here, my knees hurt.”

The Huntsman let loose a sudden breath when she nimbly dismounted him and the coffin both to drop down onto the marble dais with a clatter of her heels. She cleared her throat, straightening her hair as much as she could, arranging her skirts just so.

The Huntsman tidied himself back into his trousers as best he could and dropped down beside her. She turned to leave and he was _right_ behind her.

He did not touch her, that would be too far, give the impression that he was in charge, but he certainly herded her in the right direction.

He was so close in fact that he walked into her when she stopped to speak to one of the guards who abruptly shifted his spear so that his arm was crossed low over his body.

The Queen arched a brow at him, the faintest of smirks kicking at her lips, ignoring the way that the Huntsman had not backed away after walking into her and stood flush against her instead.

Oh yes, he was very much ready to go again.

“Guard,” she ignored the way he tried to salute her and not reveal her effect on him at the same time, “take the corpse from the casket and burn it to ash. Have them scattered into the ocean and gift the casket to the stonemasons. I’ll not have it go to waste… _then_ you may be…relieved.”

Her tongue ran over her teeth in a wicked smile and she reached back to take the Huntsman’s hand, leading him from the room.

“Come along, pet. I’m not done with you.”

The Huntsman was happily pulled out of the room after her.

Though his smile was nothing but smug when it was directed at the guard.

 

**_Many Years Later…_ **

 

Regina smirked at the memory of their first time together.

That had been a wild time for them.

She’d spent three –no- four days in bed with him after that. Four days spent learning one another inside and out. What they liked, what they didn’t, what drove them wild and how to inflict it again and again on one another.

That had been the closest she had been to being happy since Daniel’s death.

Of course, Snow had turned up with Charming a few years later and the honeymoon had died a sudden death. She’d dived headlong back into her psychosis and things had soured between her and her Huntsman. Their bed-play had taken a more…vicious turn and they had fucked as ferociously as they might have murdered one another.

Regina studied one of the down feathers that were scattered over the bed since they’d destroyed a pillow at some point. She turned it this way and that, caught between two fingers, and let loose a slow sigh.

It had changed when they’d arrived in Storybrooke.

Not at first, she’d been too insane for a long time after that. If not from the frustration of her revenge being nothing like what she had thought it had been then it had to have been her ending being nothing but a repeating loop and certainly not happy. There had been the time she’d tried to leave, then the time she’d done a _lot_ of drugs (turns out that potion making was very similar to the chemistry of narcotics) then…Henry and Graham part-time and them almost being something like a family.

Then of course Henry had found out he was adopted and that fucking book had turned up. She’d reverted, he’d run from her, Swan had turned up, everything had taken a nosedive. Then –of course- there was the whole stabbing incident and now…honesty.

Henry was closer to her again, she had admitted how she felt about Graham, she had a…a friend in Ruby. She even had a dog! Well. Dogs.

It was…nice.

And now she had to ruin it. She had to break the curse and shatter the whole illusion or it would be torn apart anyway because there was nowhere else for this to go. The curse had to be broken and she had to just…take her chances.

“Don’t go disappearing into the dark again.” Graham mumbled into her neck.

Regina jolted, surprised that he was awake.

He’d certainly had the opportunity to tire himself out three –ah, no- four times and, once sated, he’d curled himself around her, cushioning his head on her chest and into the crook of her neck. His hand splayed over her belly, his leg thrown over hers. The sheets were tangled about them, some of them ripped, at least one of the pillows had burst at some point and their feathers littered the bed and their skin both.

“I didn’t realise you were awake.” Her voice was hoarse from screaming.

“Just listening.”

“To what?” She frowned a little at the ceiling.

“Your heart.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to do with that.

“Sounds strong.” He assured her, nipping softly at her neck with his teeth and drawing a small smile from her. “Strong but sad. Stay here with me.”

She tangled her fingers in his hair rather than answer him straight away. She stared at the ceiling and wondered what the hell she was getting into.

“This is going to hurt.” She spoke quietly. “When everything falls apart…breaking the curse might break me too.” She let loose a slow sigh and closed her eyes. “Don’t care for me, Haurool. It will only hurt you more in the end.”

His arm tightened around her waist and he stiffened.

“No.”

“Graham,” she sighed, trying to get through to him, “we both know this is going to end. One way or- -”

“ _No._ ” He lifted his head and frowned down at her. “You are mine. I’m not giving you up. Not to anything. Least of all some ancient monster with a vendetta against a mouldering rug I tripped over fifty years ago. So get that out of your head right now.”

She frowned at him.

“Obdurate optimism belongs in the Snow and Charming camp, dear. Kindly do not bring it into my bed.”

“It’s not optimism, it’s the way things are and the way they’re going to be. We’re in this together.” He swept a stray curl of hair back from her face and traced the curve of her cheek with a gentle finger. “We’re murderous psychopaths, love. We’re a match to one another and I –for one- have no interest in living in this world or any other without you. Now,” he spoke over her when she opened her mouth to protest, “since we’ve already sworn to stay and protect Henry, that means that we both have to make sure the other doesn’t go and get themselves killed.”

Regina clipped her teeth together and huffed out an irritated sigh through her nose.

“I can’t argue with that logic.” She grumbled.

“You’re not going to let the Woodcutter kill me,” he murmured, dancing his fingers down over her skin to stroke lightly over the fading scar on her sternum, “and I’ll not let a breaking curse kill you.”

“And what about everything else?”

“Everything else is just going to have to wait.” He propped himself up on his elbow and smirked down at her. She frowned a little.

“Wait for what?”

“Wait for us to finish our date.”

“This is a date?” She laughed at him.

“No-o.” He grinned and nipped a kiss on her lips. “Our date is happening tonight.”

“Oh, it is, is it?”

“Aye. It is.”

“What if I’m washing my hair?”

“Then I’m taking you dancing naked and covered in suds.” Graham’s brows rose and he pretended to think about it. “Actually, not seeing a downside to that.”

“Aside from everyone else seeing me naked?”

He scowled and grunted low in his throat.

“There is that.”

“Seriously? This is your way of asking me on a date?”

“No, this is,” he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together and then looked her right in the eye, “Regina, my queen, will you dance with me tonight?”

Regina blinked, completely caught off-guard by such a low and serious request from him. She opened her mouth and then clipped it closed when she realised she didn’t know what to say.

“The correct response,” he leaned down and bit her chin lightly, “is ‘yes, my love, I shall dance with you all night as we have done before because it made us laugh and kiss and dance again’.”

Regina snorted and arched an eyebrow at him.

“Deny it.” He dared her.

She rolled her eyes but her hands slid up over his arms and twined around his neck. He was right, an annoying habit he was developing, but she was not a parrot.

“Very well, husband,” she never got tired of the little thrill of possessiveness that went through him whenever she named him such, “I shall dance with you, though not all night.”

He frowned.

“For, once I have danced with you, I will kiss you, bed you and keep you.” She leaned up and kissed him hard, a preview of events to come.

He growled into her, smiling against her lips and then pulled away.

“Excellent.” He grinned a slash of white sharp teeth. “Reservations are at seven, meet me at Granny’s at a quarter to, she’s looking after Henry and your dress, shoes and underwear for this evening’s entertainment are in the closet in the spare room.”

Regina’s brows rose and he bounded up off the bed, headed for the shower.

“What?!” Regina propped herself up on her elbows and he looked back at her with a grin. “You bought clothes for me?”

“No.” He turned to her after switching the shower on, padding back into the room. “I had clothes made for you. Now, are you showering with me or not?”

Regina clipped her mouth closed and glared at him for a long moment.

She threw the sheets back and rolled out of bed, heading into the bathroom.

“You can’t win every argument this way.” She told him sullenly and then yelped when he hoisted her up into his arms and carried her into the shower stall.

“I shall take that bet.”        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I lied. 
> 
> No ACTUAL plot to be had in this chapter. 
> 
> But we're winding up to it, I swear!
> 
> Next chapter. DEFINITELY next chapter. There shall be plot and -knowing me- it'll be violent. 
> 
> Thanks for being patient with all of the waiting for updates, but I've been working on other stuff (EiS, time travel, gender bending and cursed items that involve re-enacting greek tragedies, et cetera, yada, et al).
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the show and I hope you also don't post any spoilers for the new episodes because I haven't watched them and don't want to know anything until I do eventually get there!
> 
> Maybe after easter. 
> 
> Ciao for now!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, not dead!
> 
> Hi all, sorry for the LONG absence from this story but -hot damn- they were being difficult. 
> 
> What do I mean 'were' they still are. Stubborn. Both of them. I know this should not come as a surprise for anyone but they could at least try to work with me a LITTLE!
> 
> But no. 
> 
> So I decided to just give in to what Graham wanted because it was quite evident that he wasn't budging any further on anything else until he got his way. 
> 
> Honestly though, tesseracts are not of the fun when they get all snarled up like this. I wheedled, I cajoled, I threatened to have Mal swoop in and steal this Regina too. 
> 
> No dice. 
> 
> Grr. 
> 
> On with the show. 
> 
> I have not proofread because I am annoyed. With just about everyone. So please forgive mistakes.

**Chapter 19 – Actions Speak Louder**

**_The School…_ **

 

Henry huffed out a breath and shifted from foot to foot. He tossed his head, flicking his blue hair back out of his eyes and waited for his turn with the goal practice.

He was glad he’d been wearing his Air Jordans for the past week to break them in because he’d been subjected to a lot of running today. Something called drills. Henry didn’t like them. He had thought there would be more kicking of balls and things. He was a little disappointed that he’d been at this for over an hour and he’d yet to be allowed anywhere near a soccer ball.

He’d been _practicing_.

Graham had been helping him, teaching him how to know what he could and couldn’t do and how to improve what he could do with stretches and stuff. Henry had watched a _tonne_ of YouTube videos on ball tricks and keepie-up and all kinds of stuff and he’d actually gotten pretty good at it because he’d practiced every day after carrying the puppies home from school.

All in all, he felt rather over-prepared for the entire affair and was beginning to think this outdoors stuff was highly overrated.

Henry tugged at the V-neck of his new uniform and tried to not feel itchy. The material felt too thin and baggy. It was plain navy blue. You didn’t get to practice in the actual uniform for the Starlings (the team for Henry’s year) unless you were actually playing a match so the plain shirt and shorts were for practice apparently.

Henry folded his arms over his chest and scowled.

Honestly, the things he did for his Operations…

“Hey, freak, move. I’m bored of waiting.”

Henry stiffened.

Slowly, he turned to see Eddie Wolfe towering over a _very_ nervous looking Norman who stood looking skinnier than usual in the new uniform Henry’s mom had bought for him. Henry narrowed his eyes a little when Norman hunched his shoulders and clenched his jaw but didn’t react.

“What?” Eddie nudged Norman hard on the shoulder with one large hand. “Can’t hear me? You can hear everything _else_.”

Eddie Wolfe was a year older than everyone else because he’d been held back. Henry knew it was because Eddie was dyslexic and couldn’t read very well and was too proud to admit it. He knew his attendance at school wasn’t very good and that just made it worse. He knew that Eddie’s life wasn’t great and just a couple of weeks ago Henry would have blamed Regina for it but Henry was also beginning to realise that –despite all opportunities to do otherwise- some people were just dicks.

Well, that’s what Emma would say.

Still, any sympathy Henry might have mustered for Eddie went to war with itself when he knew too that Eddie was one of Norman’s chief bullies.

The ringleader in fact.

Henry’s jaw clenched so hard it clicked and his gaze finally became heavy enough that even a moron like Eddie could feel it. He met the much larger boy’s silver gaze head on and didn’t flinch an inch.

“It’s cool, Norman. You can go in front of me.” Henry spoke without ever looking away from Eddie and his friend gratefully stepped out of line as if to pass Henry but Jonathan –formerly Prince Frederick, husband to Princess Abigail of Midas’ kingdom- called out to Henry.

“Henry, your turn!”

Henry didn’t look away from Eddie even if he wanted to. He was uncomfortably aware that the bigger kid could reduce him to meat jam if he so chose and there wasn’t much Henry could do about it. He might be a brave little boy but the important word in that was ‘little’ and Eddie looked like he could crush Henry’s skull in the crook of his elbow.

Seriously, what were his parents feeding him? Pitbulls and Cheerios?

Still, Henry reminded himself of what Graham had told him. He was Regina’s son. He took after her. He could ask anyone and they’d say the same (and he had and they did). His mom was freaking tiny but she’d stared down the Dark One without batting one painted eyelash and he wasn’t about to break the family legacy.

“Henry!”

Henry huffed out a breath through his nose, glanced at Norman with a small smile and then ran out onto the field.

“Coming!”

He stood at the edge of the box painted around the goal and went to the ball furthest away from the line of kids as everyone had done before him.

Coach Jonathan set out a ball at each corner of the box and one in the middle to let them practice shooting goals from different angles. The other kids had moved to the farthest ball and moved back along towards the line with each shot so that was what Henry was going to do.

Still, he was uncomfortably aware of the way Eddie seemed now content to stand right behind Norman and continue to heckle him with impunity.

Henry thought about saying something to Coach Jonathan but Norman hated that. He hated teachers getting involved. He insisted it always made things worse so Henry abided by his wishes and he said nothing.

Though it grated on every part of him.

“You ready, Billy?” Jonathan called to Billy, a kid from the soccer team a few years above Henry’s. The boy stood in a half crouch, clapped his gloved hands together and readied himself to stop Henry’s shots.

Only one or two kids had managed to score against Billy so Henry didn’t feel any particular pressure to score. Yeah, he liked to be good at things but soccer didn’t _matter._ It was a means to an end and he was REALLY distracted by the way Eddie was looming over Norman and evidently murmuring nasty things into the smaller boy’s ear.

Henry’s jaw clenched and then his eye caught on something else.

His mom had just arrived.

She walked into the school fields and lifted her hand in a little wave to Henry.

He summoned a smile from somewhere for her and waved back.

Coach Jonathan looked up at Regina and then did a double take, his eyebrows raising when he got a good look at the Mayor.

She was dressed as casually as he had ever seen her. She wore pants that seemed painted on, a red V neck sweater that plunged a little lower than her usual shirts did and it clung to her as if it was never going to let go and knee high black leather boots that had a wedge heel in deference to the turf she was striding across. Her hair was a little windswept looking and she wore less makeup than usual and just generally let the MILF vibes roll off her.

“Ah- _hem!”_ Henry glared at the Coach when he realised the guy was checking his mom out.

Not allowed. He was Abigail’s.

That and Graham would shoot him.

If he was lucky.

“Can I do the thing?” Henry waved at the goal and Coach Jonathan cleared his throat and nodded hurriedly.

“Sure.”

“Thanks.” Henry grumbled.

He was not enjoying soccer practice at all.

Annoyed now, only half caring when Kathryn turned up to talk to his mom about whatever thing she’d said she needed to discuss legally, Henry swept forward and punted the ball as hard as he could towards the goal.

Billy leapt sideways, snatching the ball out of the air and tumbling off his momentum. He tossed it unerringly back into the basket filled with all the other balls he had caught the same way.

Henry’s jaw clenched as he trudged towards the ball in the middle line of the penalty box and was dimly aware of Billy watching his every move. He sparingly noticed that his mom was talking to Kathryn about something and kept drawing Kathryn’s attention to the Coach trailing behind Henry apparently without meaning to.

Henry was really more interested in the way Eddie’s smile was getting nastier and nastier as Norman cringed further and further in on himself.

This was his fault. He’d wanted his friend to play soccer with him and he’d convinced Regina to get Norman a uniform and she had but now Norman was being made miserable because of it.

Henry glanced at Billy and he kicked the ball with his right leg this time. He was teaching himself to be ambidextrous. Apparently that made you good at soccer.

This time the ball shot towards the net and Billy had a harder time of getting in the way of it. He staggered but caught both himself and the ball.

Henry didn’t care, he was still watching Eddie and Norman and hadn’t noticed the way that his mom’s words to Kathryn had slowed as she recognised the signs of her son’s lesser-spotted temper rearing its head.

She followed Henry’s gaze and her eyebrow arched when she saw what Henry did. Her expression of cool anger matched Henry’s perfectly and she moved forward to rescue Norman but Henry proved it unnecessary.

Eddie shoved at Norman, making the smaller boy wince and Henry just lost his temper.

“Eddie, you jerk, shut. UP!” Henry yelled from the corner of the penalty box and –frustrated at realising he had nothing to back up his demand of the bigger boy- he turned and barked with the effort of _hammering_ the remaining soccer ball with all of his might towards the goal.

What happened next Henry would likely never be able to replicate. If he’d practiced a thousand times, he’d have never pulled it off the same way twice…but once was enough.

The ball shot towards the goalposts, clean over Billy’s head and smacked into the corner of the goal with a sharp _gloing_ sound before careening off at an angle and towards the line of kids waiting to take their turn at goal shooting.

Norman –seeing which way the wind (or ball) was headed- ducked with the reflexes of a nervous cat even if the ball would have soared clean over his head without even skimming his hair.

Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

The soccer ball smacked into his face hard enough to bowl him over, kicking his feet up over his head and landing him on his back on the springy turf.

The ball bounced away off Eddie’s face and bopped across the turf to roll to a halt  next to Henry. Blood poured from Eddie’s nose down over his chin and he sat up, stunned into silence, looking down at the blood pattering onto his uniform. He blinked a little dazedly and looked about himself. Not entirely sure what had just happened.

Henry –for his part- gaped.

Holy crap.

Eddie was going to _kill_ him!

He hadn’t…he hadn’t thought…oh wow.

He was so dead.

Coach Jonathan ran over to Eddie and started doing first aid type things. Kathryn rushed over with tissues to try and stopper the blood flowing freely from Eddie’s nose and Regina started across the field towards Henry.

“I take it you didn’t mean to do that.”

“Nuh-uh.” Henry –eyes like saucers- shook his head in the negative.

“Well, close your mouth and don’t let _him_ know that.” Regina folded her arms over her chest. “Good shot.”

“Mom!”

“What?” Regina looked down at him. “He was bullying Norman. He’s actually very lucky you got to him before I did.”

“Should I…?” Henry took a hesitant step towards Eddie and the group of kids crowded around him.

“No.” Regina’s hand came down on her son’s shoulder. “Don’t apologise either.”

“But- -!”

“Don’t. Apologise.” Regina looked down at him, measuring him a moment. “Especially when you’re not sorry.”

“Henry, you’re gonna get killed!” Norman slithered to a halt beside mother and son. “Eddie’s gonna go nuts as soon as he stops leaking everywhere!”

Henry opened his mouth and then glanced up at Regina. She looked right back at him and let him make his own decision. Henry huffed out a breath and folded his arms over his chest with a thud.

“Let him. I’m not scared of him.” Henry scowled in Eddie’s direction and Norman’s eyebrows shot up for his already shocked looking hair.

“Not even a little?!”

“Well, maybe a little.” Henry allowed. “I’m not an idiot. Still, he’s a bully and I’m not sorry.”

Norman looked at Henry with a little awe and then up at the distinctly not-freaking-out Regina and glanced sharply back and forth between them. He cleared his throat a little.

“Uhm…shouldn’t you be yelling at Henry or something?”

“Why?” Regina’s gaze dropped from watching Kathryn and Jonathan tend to Eddie’s wounds.

This was actually working out better than expected. At least now she didn’t have to force an introduction between the two. They seemed to have everything in hand and didn’t appear to notice how close they were to one another.

Eddie was devouring a lot of their attention after all.

“’Cause…he just…?” Norman waved vaguely back at Eddie.

“Because he just defended you?” Regina propped her good hand on her hip and tilted her head at Norman. “Why should I be mad at him for that?”

“I dunno. I thought that’s what parents did.” Norman hunched his shoulders in a deep shrug and Regina tossed her head, unimpressed.

“Hippies.”

Norman coughed an uncertain laugh and Henry beamed at him. Norman didn’t laugh very often and when he did it was always quietly so no one else would notice he was having a good time and try and take it away from him.

“Still,” Norman rubbed at his arm and spoke tentatively, “a normal mom would yell at him.”

“I am an exceptional mother.” Regina shrugged a shoulder casually. “Normal rules do not apply.”

“Right.” Norman didn’t seem to understand that.

Regina stiffened as if something had just occurred to her.

“Should I help?” She looked down at Henry and he considered for a long moment. He forgot that this whole social thing was new to his mom and she’d actually been asking his advice on how to act around people sometimes because her default was mean and he was better at being friendly.

“Uhm…you got wet wipes in there?” Henry reached out to tap at her purse with his hand.

“Oh. Yes.” Regina started across the pitch, rooting around in her purse to find the little plastic packet of the wipes. She did hope that Kathryn and Jonathan hadn’t noticed her lapse in ‘normal’ behaviour.

“I have these.” She made her voice a little tentative and held out the packet to Kathryn though the hesitancy melted away when she saw what they were doing. “Don’t tilt his head back! The blood will just pour down his throat!”

Eddie coughed at that pronouncement and began to freak a little when all he could taste was blood.

“Alright, stop panicking.” Regina dumped her purse on the ground and shoved Jonathan into Kathryn to get him out of the way. She sank down onto her heels beside Eddie and took over steering the padding of tissues clapped to his nose. “Let me see.”

He grimaced when she peeled away the padding and she gripped him by the bridge of the nose with one hand, pinching hard, exploring the rest of his nose with her the fingers of her other hand.

“Not broken.” She announced and accepted paper towels from some industrious lad that had run off to find them. “You’re going to be fine.”

Henry watched from a distance as his mom went to work at taking control of the situation as was her habit. He decided not to be disturbed by the fact that his mom was more confident with the whole social and empathising situation when her hands were covered in blood.

“Your mom’s a little weird.” Norman noted idly and Henry nodded. “She’s pretty cool though.”

Henry smiled and nodded again.

“Her aura looks even better today.” Norman assured Henry and Henry let loose a slow and relieved sigh. “Looks really different actually. Brighter –uh- sparkly-er?”

He’d asked Norman to keep an eye on his mom’s ‘colours’ as soon as he’d realised what the other boy was seeing when he spoke of them. Henry opened his mouth to ask Norman what ‘sparkly-er’ meant but the other boy cut him off.  

“Though theirs have gone all funny.” Norman waved at Kathryn and Jonathan. “It…they reached out and splashed against one another when they got close. It’s hard to explain.” Norman scrubbed a hand through his hair and frowned. It only deepened when he saw Henry smiling. “What?”

“You believe in True Love?” Henry twisted to look at Norman, utterly serious.

“No.” Norman answered without hesitation and Henry frowned.

“You should. You just saw it.” Henry waved at Kathryn and Jonathan.

“Are they together in your book?” Norman looked over at Henry and bit his lip when Henry stiffened. “I mean, you don’t…have to tell me if you don’t want…”

“Yeah. They are.” Henry turned back to watch Jonathan and Kathryn. He was quiet a long moment. “Do you…believe me?”

“That your mom’s evil?” Norman frowned at him. “No way.”

“That’s not…” Henry sighed, shame burning at him when he remembered how horrible he had been to his mom for thinking that exact thing.

“I mean, I get that she _was_ the Evil Queen, but you were a pretty big dork to run off on her and shove it in her face when any idiot can see she loves you. Anyone who loves someone as much as your mom loves you is NOT evil.”

Norman lapsed into silence when he realised that was the longest sentence he’d ever come out with. What was it about the Mills family that made him so talkative?

Hmm, maybe the fact that they spoke to him like he wasn’t a freak.

“So you believe…?” Henry asked carefully.

“No, I don’t believe in the Curse.” Norman sighed and gave Henry a hard look.

Henry’s mouth opened and then clipped closed.

Of course, right, not even the ‘crazy’ kid believed in him.

“I don’t believe in it for the same reason I don’t believe in True Love.” Norman muttered and looked down at his shoes again.  

“Why’s that?” Henry cocked his head, confused now.

Norman looked up at him with something of a sad smile.

“Because you don’t need to believe in something if you can see it every day.”

“You can…?” Henry’s eyebrows flew up towards his blue fringe and his eyes flew wide. His mouth worked for a moment but no more words could come.

Norman could _see_ the Curse.

 

**_Later…_ **

 

“Well, how do I look?”

Henry’s head snapped up from bopping his soccer ball from one foot to the other and his pensive thinking was forgotten when he saw his mom step out onto the porch. He grinned at her.

“You look beautiful.”

It was true.

Regina wore a simple but stunning dress. Henry didn’t know much about dresses but the deep red colour was nice and there were slits in the skirt that swished and whirled when his mom moved so show of the pale blue lining underneath. His mom carried a matching red purse that he’d heard her call a clutch and he thought it was kind of cute that she wore Graham’s leather Sheriff’s uniform jacket slung over her shoulders.

As always, he was surprised that she could walk in those ridiculous stilt heels of hers that were a deep red to match the dress.

She’d curled her hair a little like he’d seen Agent Carter from the _Captain America_ movies do even if it was shorter and she did look very pretty.

“All the guys will be jealous of Graham.” Henry retrieved his soccer ball and slung it under his arm.

“Right answer.” Regina smiled at him and set her good hand on the door, raising her eyebrows. “You ready to go?”

“Uh-huh.” Henry nodded and pressed his lips together. How was he supposed to tell her?

How was he supposed to tell her that Norman could see the Curse?

What would she do?

Would she be mad?

Now that she was telling the truth, his mom wasn’t acting like he had thought she would. He had fully expected her to start yelling at him after booting Eddie in the face with the ball but she hadn’t. She’d been cool with it because it was Norman that he’d saved by doing it.

But she might get scared because the breaking of the Curse scared her because it meant they –Henry and his mom- might be separated and she couldn’t stand the thought of that. Not that Henry was overjoyed at that prospect either.

Henry didn’t think his mom would lash out at Norman because he could see the Curse, it wasn’t like he could control that at all, but it would scare her.  

Henry didn’t want his mom scared.

Not least of all because she made bad things happen when she was scared.

Then again, he couldn’t _not_ tell her.

They were a team now.

Him and his mom and Graham. They were in this together. They were going to break the curse so they could beat the Woodcutter and _stay_ together.

“Got everything you need in your backpack?”

“Uh-huh.” Henry scooped his rucksack up too and slung it over his shoulders one after the other.

“Are you alright?” Regina locked the door and frowned at Henry. It was evident there was something on his mind.

“Yeah.” Henry hunched his shoulders and fell into step with her when she set off down the garden path.

They were walking to the diner to meet Emma. He had managed to wheedle staying with her at the diner for dinner with Norman but his mom had put her foot down at the prospect of him staying at the loft with Emma and Snow. She had her limits after all. Just because she was doing good things did not mean she was on the good guys’ side.   

He was staying with Granny and Ruby tonight at the guesthouse and Missus Cobbler had even said that Norman could stay with him. It was going to be fun.

Just so long as he could get this weight off his mind.

Henry waited patiently whilst his mom did things with the wards around the house. She had explained it to him and she’d used a lot of big words and terms that not even Google had been able to help with and –when she’d seen how blank he’d begun to look after a while- she’d smiled and told him she was just making an alarm system for the house that would warn them if the Woodcutter got too close.

Regina turned back to him and she frowned a little when she saw him worrying his lip between his teeth. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question but he just forced a smile and she nodded. She’d let it go.

For now.

He was glad that she trusted him…which only made the guilt of knowing something she didn’t worse.

“You know where you’re going tonight?” Henry said rather than what was on his mind.

“Graham says it’s a surprise.” Regina smiled for him and tousled his somewhat sparse hair. She sighed at the blue nonsense that now resided on his head but it did…suit him. “All I know is that we are going dancing.”

“You two can dance?” Henry perked up at a subject he could get involved in.

“We dance very well.” Regina nodded.

“Do you do Enchanted Forest dances or regular stuff?”

Regina chuckled and shook her head.

“Enchanted Forest dancing is…not as imaginative as it is here.” Regina cocked her head to the side and mulled it over. “Predominantly waltzes and it is much more difficult in a corset than it is in just a dress.”

Henry laughed and she smiled at him.

“Did you learn when you came here or did Graham just…know it, ‘cause of the Curse?”

“A little of both.” Regina decided not to tell her son that the main reason that Graham liked to dance was because it was one of the few times that she’d let him be plastered against her in public. She smiled a little at the knowledge that he had always wanted to claim her as his.

A possessive nature they shared apparently.

“He liked to dance and we’ve had twenty eight years to learn. We are very good at it now.”

“So you learned for him?”

Regina blinked. She’d never thought of it that way.

She’d learned a great many things about this world in the last twenty eight years. Some because she was curious (though she had only ever taken the Mercedes apart _once_ before learning her lesson). Some because she wanted to and she’d never come across the like before and…well, most of them she had learned because she was mind numbingly _bored_.

“I suppose I must have.” She looked up at the sky for a moment, mulling that over. How long –exactly- had she been in love with her Huntsman?

Looking back, she couldn’t tell when it had happened only that she had and was now…in love with him. His soulmate. She pressed her lips together and looked back down at Henry who watched her intently. She smiled again.

“Yes. I think I did.”

“Do you really love Graham?”

“Yes.” She said at length, walking along beside him and quietly adjusting the weight of that in her head and her heart. She jolted when Henry’s hand slid into her own.

“He loves you too, you know. He told me so.”

“Did he now?” Regina smiled and tried to keep the sadness from it.

Yes, Graham wanted her. He had proved that much, but how could he love her? After all she had done to him? She wished she could believe –as Henry did- that it was that simple but Graham would have told Henry what he wanted to hear.

Anyway, it hardly mattered.

Regina might be Graham’s soulmate but that connection only went one way. If he had one of his own, it was not her and it never would be. If he ever came across said soulmate…Regina wouldn’t see him for dust.

Because who could resist a connection like the one she felt for him? It went down to the deepest part of her and it yanked her towards him whenever he was near and particularly when he wasn’t. It was like he was her other half and she only felt completely whole when they were together.

Regina knew she could survive it when Graham left her. She would survive because that was what she did and so long as she had Henry there was something to go on for…but it would still _hurt_.

It would hurt as much as Daniel had. As much as Daniel did.

“He _does_ love you.” Henry’s hand squeezed hers. “I promise he does. Just give him a chance to prove it. I know you don’t believe in this kind of thing very easily but…if Graham can forgive you for what you did then he must love you. I mean, I know everything you did in the book is real but I still forgive you because _I_ love you. You forgive me for all the horrible things I did when I was trying to break the curse on my own because you love me. If he’s forgiven you for trapping him and he stayed with you even when he got his heart back and could go anywhere he wanted then it must be because he loves you.”

Regina said nothing but she did give a small smile that seemed a little…hopeful.

Henry sucked in a deep breath and knew that he had to tell her. If she wasn’t certain that Graham loved her then she had to be sure that he did. He had to prove that she could trust him.    

“Norman can see the curse.” He blurted and his mom ground to a halt.

“What?” Her hand tightened on his and she stared down at him.

“Like he can see ghosts and auras, he says he can see the Curse.” Henry clutched at her hand and bit his lip, waiting carefully on her reaction. “He says it’s like…the shadows are wrong. They join up too much. He says my shadows and yours and Emma’s and Graham’s aren’t like that. Because we’re not affected.”

“Well, I am affected, as is Graham, we haven’t aged…” Regina trailed off when Henry shook his head.

“Norman says it’s completely gone from you two. You don’t have extra shadows like everyone else does.”

“So…not only can he see the curse but he knows…what I am?”

“He knows you’re not evil.” Henry nodded. “Not anymore.”

“He’s always known?”

“It’s kind of hazy, he said. Like…he kinda remembers always seeing it but never making the connection and he didn’t really _notice_ it until he saw Emma and how her shadow didn’t have any of the curse at all. That was when he first saw you and remembered you and knew you were different too. Even I had some shadows but they went away when you admitted to me that the Curse was real.”

Regina held Henry’s hand tightly and she let loose a slow breath. Her mind tumbling over itself as she tried to make sense of this in her head.

“Can he…is it just shadows or are there connections in the Curse?”

“He said the shadows all kind of join up.” Henry had been sure to grill Norman for every answer he could think of a question for.

Norman had seemed a little alarmed at first –nervous at being asked to describe in such vivid detail something only he could see- but he had relaxed as Henry had done nothing but listen intently to every word he spoke.

“Some of them aren’t as strong as others. Some of the connections are weaker and some of the wrong shaped shadows are fading away. Flickering back and forth between normal and Cursed. I think he can see where the Curse is at its weakest. I think he could tell us where would be the best place to break it.”

“That does seem likely.” Regina murmured and frowned, thinking hard. “We’re not ready. Not nearly.”

“That’s okay. If we know where it’s at its weakest, then we know what we have to protect until you can find a way to take me with you. It’s all going to be okay, mom.” Henry squeezed her hand and smiled for her, trying to get her to believe in him. “Have you got…any ideas for that?”

He really didn’t want to be left alone when Storybrooke disappeared.

“I don’t know.” Regina slowly began to walk again, the movement helping her think. “If we were related by blood, even if you had been born here, then there would be no guarantee that you would come with me when the Curse broke. You are inherently not part of the Curse or the Enchanted Forest because you were born on this planet. In order for you to be brought with us you would have to be inherently magical which I might be able to _do_ if there was any magic in this world but…there will be no magic so long as we are in this world and the Curse remains intact.”

“Kinda a catch 22, huh?” Henry looked up at her and she smiled.

“Yes. Kind of.”

“What do you mean by magical nature?”

“Well…I am magical because I am a sorceress.”

Henry nodded.

“Aa-and Ruby is magical because she is a werewolf. Mister Gold is magical in nature because he is the Dark One. Essentially, a magical nature is when magic suffuses your entire physical body as well as your –well- soul is the closest approximation though that is wrong too.” Regina frowned, frustrated by such a limited verbal vocabulary. Had she had her magic, her high magic, she would have been able to simply _show_ Henry what she meant.

“So does that mean that everyone who isn’t magical will be left here when the Curse breaks?”

“No. They are naturally from the Enchanted Forest and that does mean something in a magical way. The food and water we drink and eat whilst growing becomes part of us. It draws us home.”

Henry thought that over for a moment.

“But some people will have been here for longer than they ever were in the Enchanted Forest. Wouldn’t the food and water of this world keep them here? And what about Cinderella’s baby? She was born here, doesn’t that mean she’ll be stuck here with me if the Curse breaks before you’re ready.”

“It won’t.”

“But- -?”

“It. _Won’t_.” Regina stopped and turned to him, bending at the waist so they were eye level. “I abandoned you once when I began to lie to you. I will never do it again. You are my son and I am not going to let anything happen to you. Ever. You’re coming with me, or I’m staying with you. Those are the only two options I will consider.”

Henry smiled. It was always nice when she said stuff like that. A couple of weeks ago, he’d have felt like she was trying to trap him but he could see it for what it was now. She just loved him. Loved him as much as he did her.

“And I don’t know about Cinderella’s baby. I hadn’t thought of that.” Regina straightened up and frowned. “Perhaps whatever enchantment that works on you will work on the baby…we’d have to fool the Curse into ‘thinking’ that you were part of it and needed to be brought back with the rest of us when it broke.”

“Can the Curse be fooled?”

“Evidently if it let Emma in. Nobody is supposed to be able to see Storybrooke from the outside. In fact, the only place at all that has any record of this town existing was the agency I adopted you from and they no longer have those files.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Because they’re in my office next to your birth certificate and health insurance.”

“Oh.” Henry was still getting used to this whole honesty thing between him and his mom. He hadn’t realised quite how…fluid her grip on morals tended to be when they got in the way of what she wanted.

“So I think the best chance we have is tricking the Curse into believing you’re from the Enchanted Forest.” Regina smiled a little, gladdened to have a plan of action.

“How we gonna do that?”

Her smile disappeared.

“No idea.”

“Oh.” Henry frowned a little and then perked up. “You’re really clever, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“At least one of us is.”

Henry huffed out a breath through his nose. Hope was a new thing to his mom, he reminded himself, so the pessimism was something she was going to take some time to shake off.  

“Well, when we figure it out, how would we know if it worked?”

Regina was silent a moment and then she smirked.

“Norman.” She laughed. “Norman could tell us if your shadows looked like that of the rest of the cursed residents. If you look like everyone else that is cursed then the Curse itself won’t be able to tell the difference. It is complex, the most complex spell ever cast, but it is not intelligent…I think it is doable.”

Henry beamed up at her. Then sobered just as quickly.

“I’m not going to forget you or anything am I?” Henry followed her across the street when she crossed.

“No. I will find a way to make you ‘look’ cursed without actually being so.”

“Good.” Henry smiled at her and gave her hand a little squeeze. “I don’t want to forget you.”

“No. I don’t want you to forget me either.” She smiled for him and he let loose a slow sigh.

“You seem…okay.” He told her.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been expecting a lot more freak outs from you about this but…you seem okay.”

“The thing that scared me most about the curse breaking was losing you. Losing you and –worse- you seeing what I am.”

“What you were.” Henry corrected her.

“What I was.” She nodded, humouring him. “But…the latter has already happened and you haven’t abandoned me and you don’t hate me and the former…I have a plan for that. I am a fighter, Henry. Through and through and that will never change. You can’t freak out and fight at the same time.”  

“And you’re not alone. You don’t have to worry about being alone anymore. Remember that if you ever feel like freaking out and I think it will make you feel better.”

Henry grunted in surprise when his mom suddenly looped her arm over his shoulders and tugged him into her side, hugging him tightly. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head on the fuzzy brown velvet of his hair and chuckled into him.

“You are the best boy any mother could have.”

“I love you too.” He hugged his arm around her waist and she laughed again. She released him a little so that he could walk beside her with her hand on his shoulder when they finally reached the diner.

They swung in through the door and Henry shouted to Norman when he saw his friend and hurried across the diner towards the other boy.

Regina was startled by the loud wolf whistle from Ruby behind the bar. She nearly dropped her clutch and scowled at the young and unwitting werewolf.

“Someday, the irony from that is going to make you cringe.” Regina told Ruby and the younger woman frowned but took it in her stride.

She had learned a long time ago (sometime last week) that Regina seemed to have an in-joke going on with the rest of the planet that nobody in Storybrooke was aware of but she just accepted it as one of the woman’s quirks and she actually found it to be quite endearing. Like a lot of things about Regina.

Surprisingly endearing.

Ruby gave real consideration to having that stencilled onto the glass door of Regina’s office but then decided that Regina might do something much worse and more embarrassing for Ruby in return.

Still, she was going to heckle her new friend anyway.

“Well aren’t you looking fine!” Ruby hopped up onto the bar and swung her legs around so she could slither off and down onto a stool. She grinned toothily. “All dressed up and wearing your jock’s jacket! You’re adorable.”

“I am _not_ adorable.” Regina ignored the fact that she could have worn any of her multitude of coats and jackets and had chosen to wear Graham’s instead. “And I should like to see you call Graham a jock to his face.”

“I’ll call him that to whichever part I please.” Ruby informed primly and snickered when something stark and possessive streaked past the depths of Regina’s gaze.

She knew fine and well that Graham would not betray her with Ruby, even Emma had been a maddened decision when he hadn’t had much of a personality to call his own, but that did not mean that she was about to just stand around and let people get ideas by proxy.

“Liar.” Regina spoke smoothly and glanced up at the clock above the bar. It was nearly a quarter to. “Speaking of, have you seen him at all?”

“Not since he tore past here in the truck _just_ after I dropped you off at the manor. Hmm, in fact, he seemed to be heading in that direction himself. Family emergency?” Ruby tapped her chin with her finger and raised her eyebrows innocently at Regina.

“He certainly seemed to find me an urgent matter in need of his attendance.” Regina smirked, pleased that was the case, and Ruby threw back her head on a laugh.

“You two are terrible!”

“Actually, we’re _very_ good.” Regina –naturally- disagreed.

“Oh, TMI!” Ruby flailed her hands in Regina’s direction as if to ward her off and Regina just smirked again.

“Like you’re not gagging to know.”

“Hey, that was before you made it abundantly clear that he was all yours and no one else was getting a look in.” Ruby pouted in a mock sulk.

“So long as it is abundantly clear.” Regina’s lips parted in a truly wicked grin and Ruby could only shake her head and chuckle.

“You want a drink whilst you wait for your manshape?”

“Water please.” Regina nodded.

“I’ll put it on your tab.” Ruby rolled her eyes and boosted herself up onto the bar to swing her legs over to the other side and hop down again. “What’s on the cards tonight anyway?”

“Dancing.” Regina shrugged. “Dinner perhaps. That’s all I know.”

“Ah, keeping it to himself. The drama.” Ruby handed Regina’s water over to her. “I expect a full report in the morning.”

“As do I.” Regina saluted her with her glass and Ruby frowned. “Doctor Heller, remember? I’ll bet he remembers you.”

“Yeah.” Ruby abruptly looked nervous and Regina frowned. It was not a look she had ever seen on the young woman before.

“What’s wrong?” Regina frowned.

“I just…wish you hadn’t invited him.” Ruby fidgeted.

“Why?” Regina cocked her head.

Ruby was interested, Regina had learned to read such things a long time ago, Heller was interested. They were both single, attractive and attracted. She failed to see the problem.

“Because…because…he’s a doctor.”

“Nothing wrong with a solid grounding in anatomical knowledge.” Regina sipped her drink.

“I mean…he’s…educated.”

Regina frowned again.

“I’m just…me. I got my high school diploma but…what am I supposed to talk to him about?”

“Anything you want.” Regina shrugged. “Ruby, you’re adorable. Be yourself and he will be utterly captivated.”

Regina began to rummage in her clutch, she was going to call Graham, it was nearly ten to seven and there was no sign of him. She was a little discomfited to realise that she needed him in her presence as much as he seemed to need her in order to believe that he was safe. She was uncomfortably aware that she had seen neither hide nor hair of the Woodcutter in over a week.  A chill wind now and then, the sensation of being watched, but that was all.

He had seemed content to stay at a distance from her but it was _Graham_ he was really after and…Graham was all but defenceless. He still hadn’t been able to summon those weapons no matter what he tried.

“That’s…the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“What?” Regina looked up at Ruby.

“That I’m, I dunno, enough, as I am.” Ruby needlessly fidgeted with something Regina couldn’t see behind the bar and Regina frowned.

“Well…it’s true.” Regina shifted, even more uncomfortable. She genuinely wasn’t sure if she had done something wrong or not.

“We should totally hug.” Ruby swept aside the depth of the conversation with a broad grin even if her eyes did shine over bright.

“Let’s not and say we did.” Regina offered her a blasé smirk and then they were back on firmer footing. Banter she could deal with. All of that…other stuff –well- she was still learning that when it came to Graham and one person at a time was more than enough.

“I will hug you one day. It’s just a matter of time.” Ruby threatened and Regina smiled despite the uncomfortable reminder that this was entirely based on a lie.

Once the curse broke, the only hug Ruby would want to give Regina would be to crush the life out of her.

“Emma!” Henry gave a sudden shout.

Regina turned with a low growl that made Ruby snicker, despite being friends with the deputy too, and watched Emma walk in through the door to the diner. Henry waved to her excitedly and Regina found it difficult to begrudge him that.

She supposed she should be happy that his biological mother was not a heinous bitch like her own had been. Emma –aside from barging into Regina’s life, making demands beyond her station and trying to assert rights she had given up a decade ago- was perhaps not a terrible person.

Irritating beyond all belief and a threat to the stability of the Curse but –since Regina had plans to dissolve it on her own terms- she did not deem the blonde bit of fluff the threat she once had.

Also, Graham had picked _her_ and not Emma so most things were well with her world in that regard.

“Regina.” Emma nodded a little tensely, approaching her rather than going straight to Henry and Regina frowned a little at that.

“Miss Swan.” She straightened up from the bar, interested now.

Emma looked rough. Like she hadn’t slept well. In days.

“Are you well?”

“Yeah.” Emma stuffed her hands in her back pockets and answered too quickly. “Just…adjusting to the…quiet.”

“The quiet?” Regina was definitely straying further into the territories of confusion than she preferred and it was Emma’s fault.

“Yeah, you know, Storybrooke’s a lot quieter than Boston so sleeping has been a bit…weird.”

“You’ve been here for weeks.”

“Yeah. So it’s been building up!” Emma snapped and Regina’s brows rose. Emma cleared her throat and scrubbed a hand through her hair. “Sorry. That was…I’ve not been sleeping well.”

“You mean that Miss Blanchard’s company doesn’t lull you to sleep in three syllables or less?” Regina propped an elbow on the bar and smirked a little.

Emma let loose a sigh and seemed almost…relieved.

“She’s not been sleeping well either.” Ruby propped her elbows on the bar too and looked over Emma appraisingly. “She looks almost as bad as you do.”

“Thanks.” Emma clipped.

Regina huffed out a breath through her nose. She preferred to forget that Ruby was friends with Snow. Her bright mood always dimmed when the reminder was shoved in her face.

“She said it’s been too quiet too. Like…I dunno, the kind of quiet it gets when you’re being watched.”

Emma stiffened. Evidently that was _exactly_ what it was like and she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself.

“Being watched?” Regina looked between the two women and straightened up. She focussed on Emma. “How long –exactly- have you felt this way?”

“I dunno.” Emma hunched her shoulders in a shrug. “A week or so? Since…I stayed with Henry that night while you and Graham went out together.”

“Really.” Regina digested that and hummed deep in her throat. “Change your locks. There’s a madman about.”

Alright, she wasn’t supposed to enjoy inflicting that kind of fear on people anymore but the way Emma’s eyes widened and she gulped hard was absolutely delicious.

“Reggie.” Ruby reached out and punched Regina in the arm. “Don’t be a duck.”

“A duck?” Regina frowned at her friend.

“It’s a family establishment, I can’t say the other one.” Ruby scowled at her.

“Locks are already changed. Big locks. Many locks.” Emma frowned at Regina. Displeased was not the word for it. Bad enough that the Mayor and the Sheriff were going all vigilante over this bullshit but now the bastard might have taken an interest in Emma.

Still, she could fend for herself. She had a gun, she knew how to use it, she was as safe as she could be.

“Do you ever feel a weight that you can’t explain?” Regina asked suddenly, surprising even herself. “Like something has been dropped on the other side of the room but nothing has fallen? Cold spots? You have already said that the house has become unnaturally quiet, do you ever hear sounds that you cannot explain? Like something…sharp, swinging through the air?”

“Listen, I get you’re superstitious…” Emma held up her hands with a sigh.

“Answer. The questions.” Regina ordered the deputy and Emma’s jaw clenched.

“Regina, you shouldn’t scare her.” Ruby quietly murmured and Regina answered without even looking at the waitress.

“Look at her, she’s already terrified.”

“I am _not_ terrified!” Emma hissed.

“You wouldn’t be angry if you weren’t.” Regina arched a brow. “Well?”

“Yeah.” Emma threw up her hands and let them slap down against her thighs. “All of the above. So am I haunted or not?”

“I don’t know.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. “Perhaps you, perhaps Miss Blanchard or perhaps the building itself. You should stay at the guest house tomorrow. See if it follows you.”

Emma blinked at her.

“You’re certifiable.” She murmured and shook her head. She turned away to walk over to Henry and Norman’s table.

“But still alive.” Regina spoke to the back of her head and Emma ground to a halt. “Listen to your instincts, Miss Swan. They may yet prove useful to you.”

Emma let loose a growling sigh and then stomped off the Henry’s table.

“You’re so mean.” Ruby shook her head and Regina frowned.

“What? That was sound advice.”

“Really? You just told her she should be afraid of her own shadow.” Ruby waved over at Emma.

“Maybe she should.” Regina shrugged.

Ruby opened her mouth to inform Regina as to why she shouldn’t terrorise local law enforcement and Regina just smirked and dug into her purse for her cell.

She glanced up when the bell over the diner door jangled and then did a whiplash double-take when she recognised it was Graham.

“Holy crap.” Ruby out and out gaped when all Regina could do was blink.

“Hello, pet.” Graham swung into the diner with a grin and made a beeline for her.

“Uh…” Regina’s eyes roved over every inch of him and her brain just…stalled.

Suit. He was in a suit. A bespoke stone grey suit with a crisp white shirt and a mint green tie that made his eyes seem to flash along with his teeth when he grinned. He strolled towards her, brown hand-stitched leather shoes clipping against the scarred tiles of the floor.

He had obviously been to see Delilah. His beard was impeccably trimmed rather than the scruff that he usually sported which made it appear thicker for some reason. It made the line of his jaw seem harsher and the sweep of his cheekbones sharper. His unruly hair had been shorn away at the back and sides (technically giving him the short back and sides he had asked for) but the rest had been swept back from his forehead in a style that was distinctly fashionable though Regina had no doubt that fashion statement flew clean over Graham’s impeccably styled hair and he had no goddamn clue how truly appetising he looked.

At least, Regina wouldn’t have doubted that had she been capable of stringing rational thought together and hadn’t just made a truly _embarrassing_ sound at the sight of her man all suited and booted. 

Regina clipped her teeth together to keep herself from making that sound again. She hadn’t even sounded like that when he’d been fucking her. It had been somewhere between a groan of anticipation, a grunt of satisfaction and a whimper mourning the fact that her ovaries had just imploded because _oh my GOD!_

Graham walked right up to her and Regina staggered back a step, crashing into the bar. He plastered himself flush against her, his head dipping to hers and her chin tilted up through ingrained habit.

She didn’t care that Henry was just over there, she didn’t care that Ruby was gaping at them, she didn’t care that they were in a crowded diner, if he wanted something of her; he could have it. No questions asked.

“Hello.” He spoke against her mouth, not _quite_ kissing her, and she shivered all over.

“Uhm…” Her mouth opened but she couldn’t form words.

She, who knew a thousand languages and hadn’t been caught without a retort since she’d learned what they were, couldn’t summon a single word of ANY dialect to even greet him.

Her legs were shaking, her knees actually weak, and she was thankful she had the bar at her back and him at her front or she’d have melted into a puddle of her own overactive hormones on the floor in an instant. Her breath hitched and she tried desperately to remember what he had just asked her because she was pretty sure that she was supposed to say something.

Graham smirked lazily.

This was ridiculous.

“See, you demanding piece of work, I _can_ do this, I just choose not to. If you want it on the regular, ye’re going to have to ask _nicely._ ”

Regina was aware that her mouth was open and she’d yet to actually _say_ anything but –hot _damn_ \- this was a good suit.

Her hand smoothed over the fine fabric that had to have been hand tailored to him and she made another embarrassing sound when she hooked two fingers under the button of his blazer and it so easily flipped open.

“Not yet.” Graham chuckled, his hand closing over hers.

 Regina tried very hard to snap out of the haze that he’d just pulled down on her but rational was not currently a service being offered by the grey matter that was supposed to be between her ears.  

Regina closed her eyes and let loose a slow breath, she opened them and looked out the window, trying to fight the heat that poured through her at the sight of him in that suit.

A tailored suit, who knew?

Maybe it was the beard.

Or the hair?

There had to be _something_ that had reduced her to a mindless trollop but she honestly couldn’t pinpoint what it was…

“Holy _crap_ , Mister Mayor, don’t you look gorgeous!” Ruby laughed, mostly at Regina’s expense and Regina jolted when she realised that was it.

Her head snapped around to meet Graham’s eyes and his lips quirked as he looked down at her.

He didn’t look like the Sheriff, he didn’t look like a public servant, he didn’t look like any kind of servant. He certainly didn’t seem to be at her beck and call and…oh my. Regina bit her lip hard to try and shock some sense into herself.

That was it, he no longer looked like her boyfriend, her lover, her bit on the side, he was her…husband.

He had changed himself to match her.

For the first time in thirty five years, he _looked_ like her equal.

He was, she knew he was, she wouldn’t love him if he wasn’t, but this was the first time he had gone to the effort of showing everyone else that he was. That he was her equal, her partner, and he _knew it_.

It was quite the most attractive thing that he had ever done and –screw dinner- she wanted to undress him with her teeth here and now.

“Later.” Graham chuckled, reading her like a book and Regina couldn’t stop her almost whine of frustration.

Why did they have to go and eat? Who _ate_ these days anyway? Highly overrated.

“You wanna drink, Sheriff?” Ruby asked innocently when words still seemed beyond Regina. “I’ve got some fresh cranberry juice in the fridge…”

“I’m fine, thanks. Had some earlier.” Graham winked at Ruby and it was that which got through to Regina.

“Enough.” She straightened from the bar, rocking him back from her with her body as she did and he let her. “Don’t go flirting with the help.”

“Help?!” Ruby mock glared at the back of Regina’s head. She threw up her hands and ‘stormed off’ to leave the couple to it. “Well, I never…!”

“That was mean.” Graham murmured and smirked in delight when Regina evidently took some time to distract herself from how he looked and perhaps formulate a reply.

“You like it when I’m mean.” She cleared her throat. Twice. “Speaking of, this was a dirty trick.” She dragged her hand down over the front of his suit and made that embarrassing sound again.

“I can’t let you have the upper hand all the time.”

“Promise?”

“We’re going to be late.” He laced his fingers through hers, drawing her hand away from the interested things she was doing to his blazer buttons. “The reservation is in ten minutes.”

“You mean we’re actually going to dinner?”

“Yes, pet. We’re actually going.” Graham chuckled and drew her hand up, kissing her knuckles above the heavy metal rings she wore even now.

Neither of them went anywhere without weapons for the Woodcutter these days.

“If we must.” She heaved an affected sigh and he smiled for her.

“I have a powerful need to show you off.” He murmured, eyeing her appreciatively. “Mine.”

“Mine.” Regina agreed and he smirked.

“About time everyone knew it goes both ways, hmm?” He nipped a kiss at her lips before she could pretend to be offended and her brain did that short circuit thing again.

“Can you two do the mushiness on your date? Some of us are about to eat.”

Regina reluctantly looked away from Graham to see Henry grinning at her from his seat beside Norman in his booth and she narrowed her eyes in mock irritation.

“Behave or I’ll tell Granny that you’re allergic to ice cream again.” Regina crossed the diner when Graham moved aside to let her. She bent and pressed a kiss to Henry’s forehead under the blue fringe of his Mohawk. “Be good for Ruby and Granny.”

“Be good for Graham.” Henry grinned toothily at her and she ruffled his hair hard enough to wobble his whole head in rebuke.

“I’ll see you tomorrow before school.” Regina promised him and he nodded, she looked to Norman. “And you Norman.”

“Bye, Miss Mills.” Norman smiled and Regina opened her mouth to try and get him to call her by her given name again but gave it up as a lost cause for now.

“Come along, love.” Graham gave a small tug on her hand and Regina let herself be led away with one last wave to her son and his friend.

She primly ignored the pantomime of searching pockets and excessive winking that Ruby displayed flagrantly behind the bar and let herself be ushered out of the door by her date.

She had a good feeling about tonight.

Which should have been the first sign that things would decline sharply.

 

**_One Dinner Later…_ **

 

 

Regina was enjoying herself.

It seemed incredible that she could do so with an ancient monster out for her head and her entire world falling down about her, but she _was_ enjoying herself.

Her expectations of the night had been heightened as he had taken her to the most expensive restaurant in town, _Mal Maison_. Incidentally run by the former finest concubine in George’s kingdom who was rumoured to have been the one to dispose of Charming’s virginity.

Regina had been finely wined and dined to the best of Graham’s ability. Which was a lot better than she had even suspected of him.  He had been the epitome of the cultured gentleman further proving that he had been paying attention to all those courtly balls that Regina had been obliged to throw as regent. He was exactly right, he truly did choose _not_ to appear so because he didn’t feel the need.

But he had done so for her.

Regina battered down the hot squirm of feeling that went through her at the thought of him doing something he didn’t like _for her_ and tried to remind herself that she still had a modicum of dignity to retain. What small vestiges had been left by her utter cognitive shut down at the diner earlier anyway.

“Did you enjoy your dinner?” Graham loomed beside her in the dimming light like a living shadow.

The greys of his suit seemed to blend with the light of dusk in the park and his green eyes glinted at her as night began to fall in earnest.

They were walking through the park, giving themselves time to recover from dinner before hurling themselves into more vigorous activities. He truly did have dancing on the cards for her tonight and Regina tried to dial her excitement down to a manageable eleven.

She’d never been taken on a _date_ before.

She and Graham had shared dinners of course, even back in the Enchanted Forest, they’d had private meals together. They’d been lovers for longer than most couples had been married, they knew one another intimately inside and out, they had at times been less than careful when it came to keeping their relationship secret (coffins; not just for funerals, you know) but this was the first time he had wanted to take her out and spoil her.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t fair.

There had been times –in the curse- when he had seemed frustrated at the secrecy she had insisted on. When he had growled when she’d left dinners for work or stepped away from him when company had joined them.

Perhaps he had wanted to.

Perhaps only now he had the will to act on such a desire.

“Stay here with me.” He reminded her before her guilt could overtake her.

Regina shook it off with a will and smiled for him. She laced her fingers through his, the cool metal of her rings warming in their combined grip. If he thought she deserved a date, after all the things she had done to him, then he certainly deserved all of her attention in the here and now.

“Dinner was wonderful. Even I can’t cook chicken like that.”

“We can break in to get the recipe later, if you like.” He grinned for her, his shoulder brushing hers as they walked.

“I think I can live with the mystery while longer.” Regina chuckled. “I think it’s lemongrass in the sauce, perhaps tarragon in the marinade. I don’t know. We’ll have to go back and have it again until I can figure it out.”

“We can go back whenever ye want.” His voice was soft and she had to wrestle that hot squirm of pleasure down to a manageable level again. “We can make a tradition of it.”

Regina cocked her head at him and realised what he was saying. She mulled it over for a long moment and then mustered something of a smile.

“That might be difficult when the curse breaks. Madame de Silva was the finest concubine in all of the Forest Kingdoms. I’m not sure even I could spin enough gold for her to lower herself to the status of a mere cook.”

Graham smiled, a slash of white teeth in the darkening night. His eyes glittered with pleasure.

She was planning to survive. She was planning to live on with _him_. She was determined to see it through; the breaking of the curse, the defeat of the Woodcutter and –most importantly- the rebuilding of a life for herself –for them- in the Enchanted Forest. She planned to keep him. She planned for them to be together.

“I’m sure we can think of something to entice her into our home.” He spoke carefully, watching her reaction to each word. When she didn’t even blink at the affirmation that he intended to stay with her, that all that was hers would become theirs, in fact she smiled a little at the notion, he grinned wickedly. “As I recall, _she_ propositioned _you_ more than once.”

“Are you suggesting that I use my feminine wiles in order to secure us a chicken dinner?” She arched a brow at him, trying to look offended though the twitching of her lips ruined that somewhat.

“I merely posit the notion that never knowing what was in that recipe might well drive you bonkers.”

Regina dissolved into a laugh and he chuckled when he won the sound from her. Such a rare thing from her after all.

“I have a question.”

“Do you now?” Regina’s laugh lowered into a chuckle and she smiled up at him. “Does it involve watching said feminine wiles in action?”

“I reserve the right to get you drunk before exacting that promise from you.” Graham confided in her.

“Ah. Wise choice. Unnecessary, but wise.”

Graham’s eyes glittered and roved over her before he remembered what he was attempting to talk about. She was a holy terror when it came to distracting him if she wished it.

“What was Ruby doing?”

“Huh?” Regina frowned. Left field much.

“She was dancing at you when we left the diner. What was she doing?”

Regina frowned, momentarily thrown (she would realise only later this had been his exact intention) and searched her memory for the dance in question.

“Oh!” Regina rolled her eyes and shook her head with a small smile. “She was miming that I should search you.”

“Search me?” Graham cocked his head.

“Hmm, apparently the betting pool has changed in regards to our relationship; since it has been confirmed that we are in fact an item, they need to gossip about something else.”

“And what does the mysterious They gossip about us now?”

“From what I understand it’s mostly conjecture about when we’re getting married.” Regina shrugged. “Ruby, I suspect, stirs the pot in this regard and she’s been trying to get me to rifle through your pockets every time you’re not looking to find this mythical engagement ring.”

Graham frowned, his fingers flexing around hers and he mulled it over.

“She thinks I’d just carry something like that around with me?”

“Makes perfect sense to me.” Regina smirked at him. “You’ve ever been the type to be poised and ready for the opportunity just in case it would present itself.”

“This is true.” Graham smirked and swung around to stand in front of her, halting her meandering progress along the park’s path. He took both of her hands in his own. “I take it you haven’t been rifling through all my pockets then?”

“No.” Regina shook her head with a smile. She watched with mild interest as he lifted her hands with his and pressed them to his chest. “As I say; I think you’d keep it on your personage until the opportunity to spring it on me arose.”

Regina’s fingers flexed against his body as he pulled her hands down over his body, over the fine material of his suit. She smirked, warming up to the direction this conversation was taking. So long as there was some taking involved of course. She had waited a whole two hours through dinner, after all.

Besides, that shady spot over there would be ideal for her to be dragged into so that he might have his wicked wa- -

Regina’s brain completely stalled and she was left staring into said shady spot as her brain finally registered what her fingers were telling her.

Both of her hands were in his pants pockets and he gripped her wrists lightly, having led her there, and watched her face intently.

She still wouldn’t look at him as her fingers flexed and she double checked that what she was now clasping rather tightly in her hand was what she thought it was.

One hand rested against the worn leather of his wallet, the other though…the other was wrapped around a small velvet box.

Graham released her hands only when she finally turned to look up at him with wide eyes. He stood with his hands at his sides and let the next move be hers.

Regina looked down as she removed one hand from his pocket, she left his wallet where it was and then…she stared down at the deep red velvet box in her other hand. It was dark, night having almost completely fallen and she jumped badly when the lights along the path suddenly flashed on. His hand closed around hers to keep her from dropping what she held.

The box was small and battered, the velvet worn away entirely on some of the corners, lint from various pockets had ingrained itself into the fuzzy texture of the remaining velvet, greying out the red. When Graham cupped her hand in one of his and used the other to open the box, it flopped open easily, as if I had been opened and closed a hundred thousand times. The inside of the box was pristine, the plush silky cushioning shining in only the way that the _finest_ damask shone.

She saw the logo of the most expensive jeweller’s in town printed in neat black lettering on the inner lid of the box and her mouth worked for a long moment. She could think of nothing at all to say so she clipped it closed with a clatter of her teeth.

“I’ve had this in one pocket or another for about twenty five years now.” Graham murmured, not at all sure how to take her silence.

He had surprised her, as he had intended, but he hadn’t quite expected her to completely shut down when confronted with the ring.

“The curse was hazy, everything was hazy whilst under it, but some things were crystal clear. One of those things being that I wanted more of you.” Graham spoke quietly, watching her stare down at the ring and had he felt any less like his heart was in his mouth he might have laughed at having reduced her to speechlessness twice in one night. “I know that you despised your first husband, I know you hated being forced into marriage and I know becoming my soulmate wasn’t exactly your choice either but…I want this to be your choice. You do not believe easily, you cannot bring yourself to hope but – I was thinking- that perhaps you might be able to bring yourself to trust? At least in me, at least a little.”

Graham stopped himself before he began to ramble and he looked down at the ring between them.

It was simple. Understated. For the price he had paid for it, he could have had something else covered in every type of gem under the sun but he hadn’t wanted costume jewellery, he had wanted something that she would want to wear. He’d been operating under the haze of the curse when he had commissioned the ring made but obviously some part of him had been, on some level, aware because he thought it suited her right down to the ground.

The ring was a band of rose gold –warmer than any of the cold white gold or silver jewellery she had worn with her royal garb- with a double row of miniscule fresh water pearls side by side that ran from one side of the band to the other. The detail was minute but –if you looked very closely- you could see that the tiny pearls had been arranged in a pattern. Teeth. Sharp wolf teeth biting around her finger.

Elegant and ferocious.

Just like her.

“Every promise that’s ever been made to you has been broken. All of them but I wanted tonight to be about new traditions. New promises so…this is a promise. I’m with you to the end. I’m with you because I want to be. I’m with you because I love you.”

Regina sucked in a sharp and shuddering breath at that and her eyes snapped up to meet his, the mesmerising effect of the ring broken in an instant. She blinked at him and opened her mouth to say something but he spoke over her before she could because he had to get to her to understand and he was certain he was messing it up to hell and back but all he could do was keep going.

“I can’t deny that there is a part of me that wants you to wear this for entirely selfish reasons. I said I didn’t need you to wear a ring and it is true that I could live without it but I _do_ want people to know that we are together. That I belong to you and you belong to me. You told me that the magic considers us married but…”

Graham lapsed into silence, his hand tightening a little on hers as he cradled it in the clasp of his large fingers. He pulled the box from her hand, lifting the ring from it and then shoving the box back into his pocket. This was it. He heaved a sigh.

Here goes everything.

“I’m not very good at the human stuff, even after acting as one for so long. I cannot explain myself with words because I don’t know enough and I don’t know what to do in order to _show you_ what I need you to see so I shall have to do what every man has done since he has found himself hopelessly in love with a woman and doesn’t know how else to show it.”

Regina swallowed hard when he forced himself down onto one knee. He had to force himself, he was an alpha, he was a wolf, he did not like to submit in any way, shape or form, but he had to do it this one time to show that he was serious.

He took her hand in his, holding it lightly enough so that she could pull away at any time if she wanted to even if he wanted to hold her close and never let her go.

“Regina Mills, my queen, my love, will you marry me?”

 All the air rushed from Regina’s lungs and her brain was a white hot plane of shock. A solid fact that every man that had proposed to her had ended up dead in a gruesome fashion landed heavily in her thoughts and scattered them further. Her thoughts flew every which way, she was panicked and surprised, caught off guard and generally scattier than usual.

 So not even she knew what answer she was going to give right up until that single quiet word tumbled from her mouth and hung in the air between them.

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See?
> 
> SEE?!
> 
> This is not the way the story is supposed to go!
> 
> Graham, you bastard.
> 
> ...
> 
> You can blame him for the cliffhanger. If he harasses me by being uncooperative then -by god- I'm going to harass him by making him wait for his answer. 
> 
> Which Regina has not seen fit to share with me either, by the by, I'm in the dark with y'all on this one.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH, LOOK!
> 
> I DID A THING!
> 
> Finally!
> 
> I decided that I was done with this whole being the Fic's bitch thing and decided to turn the tables on them. This was written all at once and I don't know if I'm entirely happy with it BUT IT IS DONE AND MAYBE FINALLY WE CAN MOVE ON!
> 
> And maybe now Graham will stop being such a fucking brat. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**Chapter 20 – The Evening Just Isn't Complete Without a Brawl**

****

**_The Manor…_ **

 

Graham’s eyes fluttered slowly open as he woke with the dawn.

He always had. He always woke before she did as well.

Graham risked a look down at the warm and heavy weight of Regina stretched out against his side under the blankets. He had thrown most of them off in the night. He was almost feverish. He could feel it even as he lay there.

To be expected he supposed after last night.

Graham watched the light play over the ceiling. The sun’s first rays were tangling through the leaves of the tree outside Regina’s window and it resulted in a mesmerising shadow play dancing overhead. He allowed himself to watch it as he measured his heartbeat, regular, his breathing too was normal.

So he didn’t appear to be rejecting it. That could happen in the first twenty four hours. As deaths went, it was a fairly horrible one. He’d seen it happen.

When he’d just been a whelp –a boy- when he’d first come to the Enchanted Forest, he had seen it happen.

Still, if he wasn’t screaming by now then it was unlikely to occur.

Which left him with only one other option.

The magic was going to take.

Fuck.

What the _hell_ was he going to tell her?

 

**_Last Night, the Park…_ **

 

“Redundant.”

Graham, resting on one knee that was honestly beginning to get a bit damp, blinked up at Regina and cocked his head to the side.

Of all the responses she could have picked, it wasn’t the best.

Not the worst, at least, but definitely not the unanimous consent he had been hoping for.

“Redundant?” Graham pursed his lips a little and looked up at her. “Want to expand on that a bit, pet?”

Regina stared down at him for a long moment. Obviously manually searching out words from the bottomless pit that her vocabulary could be at times and her mouth opened and then closed and then she shook her head sharply.

“It’s, uh, I mean, that is…I don’t…no.” Regina shook herself again and rallied. “Your stupid fucking suit.” She looked away from him and Graham smirked a little at that because it was either that or freak out at the word ‘no’ passing her lips.

“This is…well,” Regina hunched her shoulders and shook her head again, “a surprise?”

“I was beginning to pick that up.” Graham hummed and shifted his weight a little. His knee was getting sore.

“Well, I mean, just foolishness on your part.” Regina pulled her hand suddenly from his and Graham went very still. “I can’t even imagine why you’d want to…to…I mean, with me of all people!” Regina laughed a little high pitched and still refused to look at him.

Graham huffed out a slow breath that felt like it was deflating him so that there was nothing else to hold him up.

“Still,” Regina lifted her hand to her mouth and sucked on her finger a moment and Graham frowned, genuinely thrown by that, “if you’re going to be an idiot, who am I not to take advantage?”

Regina pulled her finger from her mouth and twisted the two tone metal ring there, she winced with the effort of spiralling it off her finger but sucking on her ring finger meant the ring soon surrendered and pulled free. She gasped and winced, holding the heavy ring in her hand and then looking down at Graham.

He seemed frozen in the act of shifting himself to stand and stared up at her with something very like disbelieving euphoria.

She pulled the silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and used it to clean her finger. If she was going to be wearing a pointless mark of ownership, she refused to sully the metal with saliva of all things. She sucked in a deep breath, stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and then held her hand out to him again, her ring finger now bare of the brass ring she had been wearing and free to wear his ring.

“You’re doing all the paperwork.” She told him.

“Hah!” Graham crowed a laugh and pounced on her from his coiled position on the path. His arms cinched tight around her and his mouth found hers in a messy kiss.

Regina clung to him a little, having no choice since her feet had left the ground some time ago, and smiled into him. He chuckled even as he kissed her. It was ridiculous and undignified and she wasn’t entirely convinced that she wasn’t taking advantage of him and/or opening herself up to a world of hurt…but she had promised not to hurt him anymore and the only way she could think to truly hurt him, to wound him beyond all recovery, would be to reject him.

And she could never do that.

“Say yes.” Graham spun her down onto the ground, holding her tightly with one arm and trying to push the ring onto her ring finger with shaking hands. “Say yes to me. Say yes to us. Say it.”

“Yes.” Regina took his hand in hers and helped him fit the ring to her finger. It fit perfectly. Of course. “Yes to you. Yes to us. Yes to our lives. Together.”

Regina lifted the brass ring she still held, the one that she had pulled off her own finger, her set of ten now missing one. She pushed it onto his own finger. The magic crackling a little between them as it resized automatically to fit. He stared down at it for a long moment and then smirked smugly.

She was his.

She had agreed!

Graham grinned, an open mouthed smile, and then threw his head back and whooped a short howl up into the dark sky. He kissed her again and held her close and Regina thought…redundancy might not be so bad.

“Thank you.” Graham turned serious, his hands cupping her face and tilting her head up so she could look at him. He dipped forward, his nose nuzzling against hers, his forehead meeting her own.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Regina quirked a smile. “You haven’t seen the paperwork involved in getting a marriage license in this town.”

Graham straightened away from her a little and frowned.

“I wanted to destroy happy endings, remember?” Regina’s smile broadened a little ruefully. “Be prepared to fill out your entire life. In triplicate.”

Graham refused to be dissuaded from his victory.

“I don’t care.” His hand wrapped around hers, their fingers lacing together and her new ring chiming against the one he now wore. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I’m just saying,” Regina looked away from him and shoved a clutch of hair back when it tumbled into her face, “when you get fed up of the forms, the rings are enough. You asking is enough. You don’t have to- -”

Regina was silenced by Graham’s mouth on hers again and she nearly rolled her eyes. He couldn’t win every argument that way.

Graham deepened the kiss and drew her flush against him.

Then again, if he wanted to try winning that way, who was she to stop him?

Regina’s arms wound around his neck and she tangled her fingers in his oh-so fashionable hair that was really beginning to look a bit mussed. He growled into her, kissing her like he wanted to inhale her and broke apart only when he thought she might need a breather.

“Take me home.” Regina’s hand wound around his tie and she gave a little tug.

He laughed.

“No. Not yet. Dancing. I promised you dancing.” He took her hand in his and pulled her along the path towards the exit of the park.

Regina made a disgruntled sound at being denied him for even a moment more than she had to…but this was his night.

She had already said yes to the biggest question he could have asked her.

She decided not to worry about it being an easy habit to fall into. The desire to give him whatever he wanted, no matter the cost to her, because he asked of it.

Tomorrow was for worrying. Tomorrow was for consequences.

It could all wait until tomorrow.  

Of course, the universe had never been that kind to Regina.   

 

**_The Dog’s Unmentionables, the Docks…_ **

 

“Here?” Regina shouted to be heard over the blasting music. “Your night of romance involves bringing me to the seediest dive in town?”

Graham turned to her with a grin, his hand squeezing hers, and he leaned in so she could hear him.

“It’s electroswing night. You love electroswing.”

“I also love not being stuck to the floor!” Regina avoided a puddle of…something and looked about the bar.

She supposed it was her own fault. She’d cast the curse and created the damn hovel in the first place after all.

Still, she’d been in worse taverns.

A world without indoor plumbing will always out-disgust that which has functioning bathrooms on the premises.

So, yes, the floor was sticky and her shoes were probably going to be ruined. Yes, the name of the bar could have done with a serious revision of life choices on the part of the owner and –yes- they were very much the centre of attention considering that they were both incredibly public figures and Graham was synonymous with the Law and the regular patrons of this oh-so fine establishment were incredibly…not.

Still, she liked the nautical theme, the cheap plastic décor and the neon lights and –if she listened carefully over the heaving throng of patrons that already filled the bar- it _did_ sound like there was electroswing on the go.

Graham pulled her deeper into the bar, effortlessly turning up his Don’t Fuck With Me field so that a path cleared for them and they rounded the long scarred bar in order to see an equally scarred but heaving dancefloor beyond.

There was a battered jukebox in the corner but –somewhat incredibly- a live band crowded onto a tiny stage which was really more just a step up from the dancefloor and the musicians were in fact quite good. Jazz players riffed alongside a lead rock guitarist whose fingers were no doubt going to be bloody by the end of the night, a drummer threw himself into the beat and there was presumably someone behind the mass of keyboards and synthesisers in the back corner that hammered out the thumping bass and synthwave undertones that clashed so wonderfully with the likes of Benny Goodman and remixed Nina Simone.

Regina found herself smiling and realised that she was looking forward to this.

Dancing, it had been years since he had taken her dancing. Not (aside from the occasional public function that allowed a chaste whirl around the town hall) since before Henry.

And Graham was right. She did love to dance and she was also partial to electroswing.

They didn’t bother with drinks, they weren’t there for that and Regina wasn’t going to drink anything from this place without the need for a tetanus afterwards.

Graham took her jacket and her purse and handed them both over to the barman with a meaningful look that he was no responsible for them. Then he led Regina out onto the floor.

Regina was surprised to note that there were actually _dancers_ dancing. Not just the bump and grind that she would associate with the general populace but there were couples pulling off moves that actually required a little skill.

Her surprise must have shown because Graham pointed over her head behind the band on stage and Regina turned to see the poster proclaiming it to be Dance Night and there was some sort of cash prize involved.

Ah.

Regina smirked when Graham sketched out a courtly bow to her and held his hand out in a silent invitation to dance.

Her hand clapped into his and dance they did.

The rest of the bar fell away. The patrons, the sticky floor, the occasional squeal of feedback from an inferior sound system. None of it mattered.

Graham was there and so was the music and –for a while- Regina forgot everything else about the world other than this was their night and –maybe- he deserved this even if she didn’t.

They danced until her feet ached, they danced until she was slick with sweat and her makeup must have been running, they danced until she was breathing hard and utterly exhausted but she had decided to keep up with him and that was that.

Graham was a marvellous partner. He fit her perfectly. Over thirty years of practice in moving with her and they were easily the best dancers there though neither of them cared much for the prize. He lifted her, spun her, threw her up in the air a couple of times, but he was always there to catch her and spin her back down to the floor, grinning at her the whole while.

He was happy. Delighted.

So delighted in fact that he entirely missed the punch flying towards him until it connected squarely with his jaw.

Graham grunted in surprise, letting go of Regina so that he didn’t drag her over with him and went reeling. He staggered badly, crashing into the stage and one of the huge speakers there. The speaker toppled, smashing off the stage and onto the floor. Wires were yanked from the wall and the music cut off abruptly.

Regina’s eyes widened and she rushed forward to help Graham, to check that he was alright, but a steel band manacled around her arm and she was yanked cruelly to a halt.

“Well, well, if it isn’t- -“

Regina didn’t care who or what had hold of her but she did care about being let go _right this instant_.

Regina spun with her reversed momentum, whirling on her assailant and smashing the heel of her hand into the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck!” The man, a greasy middle aged sort with stringy hair and _much_ bigger than Regina, staggered a little with the blow but didn’t release her.

Well, that was concerning on multiple levels.

A blow to the nose was one of those universal things that a body can’t be trained out of. A punch there and vision flashes white, a single blow to the nose, the second most sensitive organ in the body, and muscles go limp. It lasts for a second, a bare moment, but that moment is usually enough for someone like Regina to follow up with something alarming for their assailant.

Usually in the colour of Arterial Spray Red or Brain Matter Grey. It entirely depended on her mood.

Not so with this man.

“Fucking bitch!” The man yanked Regina closer, her feet leaving the floor and she slapped into his chest, coughing the air from her lungs. “First my boy and now me!? Time somebody taught you a fucking lesson!”

Regina clenched her teeth together when he shook her to prevent her from biting her own tongue off and didn’t waste her breath on questions. She shifted her weight –difficult to do when he hurled her back and forth hard enough to rattle her brain in her head- but managed to get the footing right to slam her shin up into his groin.

Well, if the nose didn’t work there was always the _most_ sensitive organ to attack next.

She didn’t even get the chance.

Regina staggered when several things happened at once.

A bellowing roar _shook_ the bar, Regina’s attacker lifted his eyes to face it but didn’t have the chance to even complete that motion before Graham hit him like a freight train.

Regina was spun free when her assailant was torn away from her and carried several metres away by the force of Graham’s attack.

 They landed messily on the floor in a tangle of limbs and swearing. Graham sat on the man’s chest and slammed his fist into his jaw. He was swearing a blue streak in Wulven –if anyone could understand they would have known he was threatening to eat the man’s heart- and raining blows on whatever part he could reach.

The fact that the man –Adam Wolfe to his questionable friends- was larger than Graham by a factor or that he had several friends that didn’t like the Sheriff much either, didn’t seem to factor into Graham’s decision to beat him bloody.

Adam Wolfe, Adair back in the Enchanted Forest, went _way back_ with Graham after all.

Wolfe grappled with Graham on the ground, squirming beneath the Sheriff and trying to regain the upper hand. Graham wasn’t as large as he but he did have the leverage and appeared to –for the moment- have lost his damn mind.

A rage which Wolfe used against him.

Wolfe snapped upright, slamming his forehead into Graham’s nose and sending the Sheriff reeling again. Graham tumbled away and Wolfe was on him in an instant, one huge hand wrapping around Graham’s neck and the other lifting a meaty fist high in order to crack his skull like an egg.

Not so easy.

Graham bucked up, unbalancing Wolfe and cramming his thumb into the bigger man’s eye.

Wolfe howled, wheeling away, hand clapped to his eye.

Graham was on his feet in a flash, teeth bared and eyes on fire and all of a sudden it was an even fight.

Odds which Wolfe did not favour.

“Fucking kill him!” He bellowed to his friends and they –through loyalty or stupidity- waded into fray.

Right into the barstool that Regina swung into their faces.

It was about then that things devolved entirely. The phrase ‘complete pandemonium’ was apt and would later turn up several times in witness statements that Emma gathered with long suffering diligence.

Wolfe’s friends rushed for Regina, the barman snatched up his baseball bat (affectionately known as the Teaching Stick) and hopped the bar, the bouncers swarmed from the door to add their two cents, someone got knocked over and their drink spilled over someone else which led to a wild punch which in turn led to staggering, tripping over the stage and landing face first into the clarinet player’s lap. Biting ensued, the lead guitarist took offense and sent the interloper crowd surfing when the tide was decidedly out.

The unfortunate biter was introduced to the sticky dancefloor at speed, slithered across it and took out another table which in fact was holding host to the local chapter of the Dungeons and Dragons society.

Meddle not in the affairs of the Dungeon Master.

Turns out that a Dungeon Master’s rule book makes a fairly effective bludgeon for even the untrained.

Regina, ignoring the shouts of ‘plus five ownage’, ducked the wild swing of a baseball bat, jinked out of the way of a now thoroughly battered clarinet that warbled through the air at her face and tried to get to Graham.

He had last been seen over by the bar but the space between them had since been taken up by what seemed like the entire population of the bar trying to throttle one another (was that one of the nuns from the convent?) so her view was somewhat blocked.

Still, Regina had been to war before.

She jinked, ducked, dived, sidled, scuttled and slithered her way between the flailing limbs and bellowing brawlers. She had to scrambled up and over the bar run along behind it and then hop it again to get past a skinny teen in a ‘Nerds Try Harder’ shirt introducing someone, who looked like they had been thrown out of Hells Angels for unnecessary roughness, to the bar face first.

Finally back onto the floor, Regina kicked out someone’s knee, dislocated another’s elbow and staggered into the clearing where Wolfe and Graham were knocking the stuffing out of one another.

She honestly couldn’t tell who was winning.

Wolfe was huge, about the same height as Graham but significantly wider. That being said, he looked strung out and greasy in the manner of someone who kept to a mainly forty proof liquid diet and Graham currently had his arms wrapped around Wolfe’s neck, pressing his forearm across his windpipe and trying to make the big man take a fucking nap.

“Fucking bastard,” Graham snarled in Wulven, “I’ll wear your hide for touching her!”

Regina ground to a halt when Wolfe not only seemed to understand what Graham growled but _answered back._

“Her whelp attacked mine!” Wolfe snarled and bucked frantically trying to throw Graham off but the Sheriff grimly hung on. “I’ll make her bleed!”

Graham’s eyes flashed cold like glacial ice and Regina spurred herself forward. She recognised that look. That was the wolf rushing to the fore, Graham was about to kill Wolfe.

“Graham, no!”

Regina’s voice got through to Graham when nothing else would have and he faltered in shifting his grip around Wolfe’s neck. The other man wasted no time in twisting in Graham’s hold and fighting back in the only way he could.

Graham howled in surprise and pain when Wolfe sank his teeth into Graham’s arm on the inside of his elbow. Just above the lines of his sword tattoo, Wolfe bit down to the gumline, tasting blood and petty victory.

Not for long.

“Bastard!” Regina swept forward, her eyes a light swallowing black and her foot lashed out in one smooth kick as practiced as Henry had been with his soccer ball.

Except Regina’s target was significantly smaller and mulched much easier on the pointed toe of her stiletto heel.

Wolfe choked, his jaws snapping apart from around Graham’s arm, and he folded like a cheap wallet. He threw up, mostly cheap bourbon, and collapsed onto his side, his hands clutching between his legs.

“I’ll kill you, you- -!” Regina was caught around the middle by someone, she didn’t know who, her hands were still claws reaching for Wolfe’s neck or any other soft part she could get a grip on and squeeze until she was covered in red.

“ _EN-NUFF!”_

Regina went slack in surprise when a gunshot punctuated that bellow and everybody effectively stopped what they were doing.

Emma, breathing hard, holding back Regina with one arm and her smoking gun held aloft with the other, glared at the frozen patrons of the bar.

It would have been funny had it not been so violent. They were all rigid, having stopped exactly what they were doing as they were doing it so the effect was like some sort of neon tinged renaissance painting depicting a wrestling war. One person (Emma was pretty sure was actually one of the nuns from the convent) was stock still whilst holding a full grown man above her head, yet more were crouched on top of prone victims and a few still had their hands wrapped around one another’s necks though not actively choking each other out right now.

Emma, when she felt she had everybody’s complete and undivided attention, glared her way across the room. She thrust Regina at Graham when it became clear Emma was in danger of becoming the Mayor’s next target should she not be allowed to go to him.  

“Now,” she spoke quietly, forcing everyone to listen in, “does anyone want to tell me how this whole shit show got started?”

Emma was not at all surprised when several wide pairs of eyes skated towards Regina and Graham.

 

**_Later Still…_ **

****

“So! All good?” Emma joined Regina and Graham in the back of the ambulance where a paramedic had been disinfecting and bandaging Graham’s wound.

The Sheriff looked pretty battered, there was blood staining the collar of his shirt from where the wound on his head had bled to, but it was cleaned and paper stitches held it together. His arm had been similarly taped and gauzed but he’d been given the all clear to go to the hospital under his own power for follow ups.

Regina –for her part- looked windswept and interesting but otherwise unharmed. Most of all she seemed content to growl at people that got too close to Graham.

Regina’s dark glare in Emma’s direction made it clear that she was allowed near on a probationary period only and that status could be revoked whenever Regina felt like it.

“I’m fine.” Graham picked up his ruined jacket and slung it over his shoulders. He was careful with his injured arm but he could still move it easily enough.

“And you?”

Regina blinked in surprise when Emma directed the question at her and she answered honestly.

“Hostile and uncooperative.”

“Colour me surprised.” Emma drawled and flipped her notepad out of her pocket. She cleared her throat and turned back to Graham. “So everybody pretty much agrees that this Adam Wolfe guy started it all and Regina finished it by mulching his family jewels.”

Graham glared at Regina but her smirk showed she wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

“Considering the guy’s off his face on everything from coke to paint stripper, I don’t think he’ll be in any position to press charges.” Emma glowered at Regina’s smirk but let it slide. “He’s headed to the hospital to see if they can…well, _pop things back in_ since they were –ah- ‘degloved’ by Regina’s Jimmy Choos. Still, he’s not feeling any pain because he’s hopped up on whatever the EMT’s are giving him along with everything else but he did say some interesting things.”

“Really?” Regina feigned polite interest to try and detract for the murderous need to fillet this Wolfe character for even _touching_ her man.

“Well, he said the reason he got all handsy with Regina here is because his kid is the one Henry booted in the face with the soccer ball this afternoon.”

Regina’s brows rose but she gave no other reaction. Emma waited a second for her to fill the silence but Regina wasn’t playing ball.

“He also spoke in that language you two talk in sometimes.”

Graham’s brows rose and he turned his full attention on Swan.

“Yeah, I didn’t understand it and I can’t repeat it but it was definitely Dog German.” Emma stuffed her notepad into her pocket and raised her eyebrows at Graham. “Is it him? He the guy you two are after?”

“No.” Graham snorted in disdain and shook his head. “Adai- -Adam Wolfe is a lowlife of the lowest order. He’s not the one that attacked Regina.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. All of that had been true but that wasn’t the whole truth. Judging by the way Regina was looking at Graham, she wasn’t entirely up to date on the history between Wolfe and Graham either.

Emma knew it was petty, but that pleased her absurdly. To not be the only one out of the loop.

“Is that all, deputy?” Graham was quite obviously done with this line of questioning and Emma huffed out a breath through her nose. She knew better than to push him though.

“That’s all from me. EMT’s say they want you at the hospital for a tetanus sooner rather than later though.” Emma pushed away from where she had been leaning on the side of the ambulance door. “Later, boss.”

She sauntered off into the night and the throng of people still hanging around to be detained or debriefed.

“I suppose we’re free to go then.” Regina surged out of the ambulance and Graham was hot on her heels.

His arm found her waist and he yanked her flush against his side, putting himself between her and everyone else. He glared at everyone for good measure but they were all out of fight and dropped their gazes away from him accordingly.

Mollified by that, Graham grunted deep in his throat but held Regina close still.

“I’m fine you know.” She told him, aware that he was upset but not entirely sure over what.

“Ye shouldn’t have stepped in.” Graham allowed after a moment, crossing the street away from the crowd outside _The Dog’s Unmentionables_ and heading back towards Main Street, Granny’s and his truck.

“You were going to kill him.” Her voice was pitched only for his ears and Graham just grunted. “It’s a complication we can do without.”

Graham snorted at that.

“What is your history with him anyway? He looks familiar. Who was he?” Regina demanded answers now that there was no one else to overhear. They were alone in the street, the throng of patrons from the bar long since behind them.

“His name is Adair. I knew him…when I first came to the Enchanted Forest. We didn’t part on good terms.”

“What- -?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Graham cut her off and then softened when her face went carefully blank. “Not tonight anyway. Tonight is still our night and I don’t want to spend it hashing over old news about insignificant people.”

“Really?” Regina arched a brow. “Well, so far I’ve been wined, dined, danced and very nearly had my head taken off. Whatever else could you want to do, Sheriff?”

“The same thing I want to do every time we get in a fight.” Graham smirked and leaned down to rumble in her ear, she shivered at his next words.

“You, of course.”

 

**_Now…_ **

 

Graham smirked when he thought about what had followed.

It was true that nothing put them in the mood better than survival sex but she had really outdone herself last night. They hadn’t even made it back to the manor, he’d taken her then and there up against the side of his truck and kept his hand over her mouth to quiet her screams.

His smile died when he felt her shift against him and knew he really couldn’t put the conversation off any longer. It had been put on hold but Regina was fully capable of picking up the subject line no matter how many bouts of sex or sleep happened between then and now.

“You’re warm.” She grumbled into his side, waking slowly. “You have a fever.”

“To be expected.” Graham huffed a slow sigh and waited for that to filter through. It took a little longer because she was still muzzy from sleep.

“Why?” She was suddenly very much awake when all the dots connected. She bolted upright, pleasantly naked but the sight was marred by her evident concern for him. Her eyes were wide and she did not look even remotely happy. “Why should you be feverish? _Who_ is Adair?”

Graham sighed through his nose and decided to just rip the bandaid off.

“I was raised by wolves, aye?”

“In the Blackwood.” Regina nodded, her eyes narrowing. “What of it?”

“Well, when I came to the Enchanted Forest, I couldn’t fake being a normal man. Not half wild and naked like I was.” Graham sat up so that they were eye to eye and pleaded silently with her not to have a meltdown at this latest bump in the road for them. “So I found people that were as close to what I was as I could. I found a pack of werewolves. They raised me and helped me become…a man.”

Regina frowned and then her brows rose and her eyes widened.

“And Adair is…”

“Adair was a werewolf. Alpha of the pack. Adair is Adam Wolfe.”

Regina’s gaze dropped to his arm and the white bandaging that stood out lurid against his tanned skin. Her lips parted as her brain stumbled over that information.

“But that means…”

“Aye.” Graham scrubbed a hand through his hair and pressed his lips together. He heaved out another sigh and waited anxiously on her response.

“I was bitten by a werewolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUUUUUUUNNNN!
> 
> Because cliffhangers are fun. 
> 
> Also, you can Google what 'degloving' is but I really wouldn't recommend it unless you have a stomach of solid steel.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *beats chapter with 2x4*
> 
> *chapter twitches feebly*
> 
> *beats chapter more*
> 
> I'm not happy but it's something.

**Chapter 21 – Fever, When You Touch Me**

Regina…was freaking out.

Graham sat opposite her at the kitchen table. She clutched a cup of coffee between her palms and stared down into it as if she might divine some truth from the dark brew.

Graham sipped his own drink, ice water to keep his fever down, and listened to the tides of her emotions flow in and out of his heart and through that invisible connection between them.

She looked perfectly calm, of course she did, but she was certainly freaking out. Or in. Freaking in? Was that a thing?

“Okay.” Regina looked up suddenly, she opened her mouth as if to continue and Graham raised his eyebrows.

“No.” Regina huffed out a breath and looked back down into her coffee.

Graham poked at an ice cube in his drink. The last half hour had been much of the same. She had made him breakfast (twice) because she needed to do _something_ and then she had sat down to…plot.

It had been a very one sided conversation.

“But I could…no.” Regina frowned as her brain caught up with her mouth again and she rubbed pensively at the back of her neck.

She brightened suddenly.

And dimmed just quickly.

“No.”

“I much prefer yes.” Graham sipped mildly at his drink.

“Yes what?” Regina took a moment to tune back in.

“Just in general.” Graham hunched his shoulders. When Regina continued to look mystified as to what he was talking about, he tried again. “What do ye need from me, pet?”

“You not being bitten by a werewolf would be _excellent_.”

“Sorry, can’t oblige.”

“Oh, so I agree to marry you and you stop trying all of a sudden?” Regina drank from her mug with a hand that shook only a little.

“What frightens you?”

“Loss.” She answered without hesitation, meeting his gaze for a moment and then letting her eyes skate away just as quickly. “This could kill you.”

“Unlikely.”

“My _entire life_ is unlikely.” She seethed.

“Can’t deny that.” Graham dragged his nails through his beard as he scratched at his chin.

 He was hot, sitting there at the kitchen table in just his pyjama pants (which he hadn’t realised he owned), but he didn’t feel the magic eating at him. He’d told her as much but Regina wasn’t so easily soothed.

All she could see was that he was sweating and that his pupils were dilated and that there was _nothing she could do_.

“What happens next?” Regina inhaled a fortifying breath. “With other people that are turned, what happens?”

“Fever.” Graham waved at the flush he could feel on his face, neck and chest. “I’ll get hotter for a couple of days, my temperature will spike and then drop a bit but it settles above human baseline. Same with my heart rate and respiration except when they settle they’ll be lower than baseline.”

Regina nodded, comforted by his clinical analysis. It was what she needed. She needed the facts and not the emotion because she couldn’t afford to fall apart if there was a chance that could interfere with her opportunity to do something if and when that chance came.

“We’re two weeks from the full moon so…it’ll be quick. I’m probably going to go through what are essentially growing pains. I’m pretty fit, the magic has kept me in my prime so I doubt I’ll throw up much.”

Regina raised her eyebrows.

“That’s pretty awful.” Graham didn’t sugar coat it. “The wolf rejects what it doesn’t need. Forces the body to expel it. Looks kind of like…tar? Smells worse.”

“So you’re going to need time off work.” Regina nodded, planning.

“Maybe.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how much my body’s going to change before the moon. Sometimes nothing happens, sometimes folk bulk up.”

“What about your appetite?”

“Increases.” Graham nodded. “Fuelling a lot of…stuff.”

“Okay.”

Graham watched her for a moment. She looked small and uncertain and he hated it. He’d truly rather that this hadn’t happened this way but…he couldn’t deny the advantage it would give him in the coming confrontation because the Woodcutter hadn’t just _disappeared._  Whatever he was doing, he was still out there. Graham still couldn’t get the tattoos to work and he had little defence against a beast of spirit and intellect but as a werewolf…

Werewolves were half in and half out of the physical realm. They had to be in order to change without destroying their bodies with the incredible strain of metabolic changes that switching forms would bring about.

Still, all of that paled when compared to the way Regina was so… _quiet_.

“Tell me what’s in your head.” Graham leaned forward a little and she snapped her head up to look at him. She blinked caught off guard and tried to order her thoughts.

“Well…there’s a lot going on.”

Graham smirked. Master of understatement, she was.

“I don’t know if you’ve got the magic here to survive the change.”

Graham frowned.

“Werewolves need magic to make the change. Nothing could survive turning into a wolf. Nothing. Not in such a short span of time. If UV light reflected off a lunar surface, refracted by the gravity well of this planet, has the same effect on you as Enchanted Forest moonlight does then…”

“I’m not going to die.” Graham told her firmly.

“You can’t know that. You literally cannot know that.”

“I _do_ know that.” Graham heaved a deep and calming breath. “I won’t die. That’s not what the Wolf at the Door meant for me.”

“You think the rug is still pulling the strings?!” Regina clattered her mug down onto the table.

“Wouldn’t put it past him.” Graham hunched his shoulders. “I mean, what are the odds? That your placid little lad would lose his temper and boot a werewolf cub in the face? Then that the Alpha would come for me in a bar? Off his face and in no condition to fight? That he’d bite me? With cursed memories? People don’t _bite_ in this world. Not with even the dumbest fuck knowing how diseases are spread.”

“You said it yourself, he was drunk! And high!” Regina lifted her hands. “I have little doubt he’d have peeled off his own face and slapped you with it if he thought it would have won him the fight _and_ the curse is still degrading. He was answering you in wulven last night.”

“Him peeling his face off would have vastly improved him.” Graham grunted and Regina narrowed her eyes.

“You never did tell me what happened between you too.”

Graham shrugged.

Regina raised an eyebrow.

Graham’s jaw rocked to the side and he looked down at the table. He scratched at his beard again and fidgeted a little. She just watched him.

“I didn’t like him.”

“Evidently.”

“I mean,” Graham gave a low growl at her tone, “I didn’t like the way he treated people.”

“People?”

“Women.” Graham corrected himself.

Regina’s head cocked to the side.

“He didn’t…he’s the first misogynist arse I’d met. I was only seventeen. Ish. I hadn’t learned to keep my opinions to myself.”

Regina looked down into her coffee and bit her lip. She looked like she was trying to hide her smile.

“What?” He demanded.

“Graham, are you…are you telling me that you were hurled across a world, landed in an alien environment, turned yourself into something else, stayed in a den of maneating monsters, made a home for yourself, the only safe haven you had, and you threw that all away because…you’re a feminist?”

Graham blinked, considering that. He shrugged.

“Aye.”

Regina smiled, the barest curl of her lips and she hummed deep in her throat.

“Ye shouldn’t make that sound.” Graham smiled.

“You shouldn’t be this attractive when you’re too ill for me to do anything about it.” Regina sipped of her coffee again.

“I’m not _ill_.” Graham gave strong consideration to proving himself quite vigorously in that regard but she forestalled him by sobering once more.

“You are. This is serious. I really don’t think you have the magic to…survive.”

“Alright. What do ye suggest we do about it then?”

Regina pressed her lips together and looked down into her coffee. It was nearly done, nothing but the dregs left sticking to the sides of her cup as she swirled it idly. She knew of one thing but she didn’t know how he’d…feel about it.

She didn’t even know how _she’d_ feel if their situations were reversed and he used…that on her without telling her first. What would he think? What did she think?

God, she didn’t even know anymore.

“Pet?” Graham leaned over the tabletop and reached for her hand.

His left hand. She saw his ring, the ring she had given him the night before, glint in the light.

She reached for him automatically, her hand closing over his and she smiled. Opening her mouth, Regina braced herself for the argument to come.

The front door opened.

She was saved.

“Mom!”

Regina’s expression lightened into a smile when Henry came tearing in through the front door and made straight for the kitchen. She hugged him when he hurled himself into her arms and then frowned.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I’ve got time. Emma’s gonna drive me back.” Henry tossed his head to flick his blue Mohawk out of his eyes. He hadn’t gelled it up this morning, obviously in his hurry to get back to the Manor. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine.” Graham spoke before Regina could and Henry turned to him. “Bit of an altercation in the pub. Nothing to it.”

“You’ve got a cut on your head.” Henry’s jaw took on a mulish tilt.

“You’ve got ridiculous hair on your head.” Graham raised his eyebrows glibly.

“My hair is _fabulous_.” Henry folded his arms over his chest with a thud.

“Who told you about last night?”

“Miss Blanchard walked me round to the station at stupid o’clock this morning to I could meet Emma for breakfast before school.”

“And she told you?” Regina frowned. “Why were you even with her in the first place? Ruby was looking after you.”

“Ruby had the early shift on the diner, she told you that.” Henry raised his eyebrows. “Though you were busy being mushy so I can see how you’d forget.”

Regina raised an eyebrow in silent warning.

“Anyway, you didn’t say anything about me not having breakfast with Emma so I went round to see her –Ruby took me- and I met Miss Blanchard when Emma wasn’t there and she offered to take me around to the station so I could still see Emma.”

“So Emma told you?”

“I read the reports from last night when I went to the station. Emma was still doing paperwork. There were a lot of reports.” Henry’s eyes went wide to show his shock at the scale of how much trouble his mother could cause/get into without even trying.

“She left the reports on her desk?” Graham frowned.

Henry hesitated a half second too long.

“On her desk or _in_ her desk?” Regina narrowed her eyes.

“I think we’re getting bogged down in the wrong details.” Henry held up his hands in a surrender that was anything but. “I just came here to make sure that nothing was hanging off or anything. Did you get _bit_?”

“Bitten.” Graham corrected absently and held out his arm dutifully.

“Can I see?!” Henry rounded the table to stand over Graham and Graham smirked but peeled back the bandage to show the bite beneath.

“ _Eeeeuuuurgh!”_ Henry scrunched up his face and then dissolved into a laugh. “You punch him? That looks weird. Doesn’t look like a people bite. Was it a dog?”

“Henry…” Regina sighed and Henry spun back to her to forestall the scolding.

“I also came back to give the puppies their breakfast because I am a responsible young man.” Henry laid his hand over his chest but Regina smiled because his tone was entirely different. The panic was gone from his eyes.

It had been faint but it had been there. He had breathing far too hard from the run from Emma’s car to the house. His colour was getting better because he had been far too pale as well.

Regina glanced over at Graham, carefully smoothing the tape back down over his wound, and he caught her gaze in return. He nodded subtly.

No need to tell Henry. Not yet. Not until they knew what this was.

“Puppies!” Henry spun away to the door leading out into the laundry room and the pups beyond heard his voice.

Regina sighed when she hear the scrabble and bumbling of the pups falling over themselves to get to the door and closer to Henry who they loved second only to Graham. They seemed to think of Regina as some sort of primitive god that rearranged their world arbitrarily. Regina was perfectly alright with that. Still, she turned to watch as Henry edged open the door and four bundles of fur and excitement tumbled out into the kitchen. They were pretty much only allowed out under supervision but the pups already behaved pretty well considering they came from stock not at all domesticated.

They were much bigger than they had been when they had first come to the Manor. Their eyes were open and they were beginning to get curios. Regina resigned herself to a destroyed house soon enough. They were getting too big to be restricted to the laundry room after all.

“Geez, you guys poop so much!” Henry complained but it was good natured.

Regina looked away from Henry complaining about the smell but gamely cleaning up the newspapers that the puppies had used in the night when she felt something cold press against her leg.

Looking down, she saw one of the pups snuffling at her feet and legs. It looked up at her with a soft yip. A challenge. This was the eldest and largest pup.

“Enough of that.” Regina reached down and gently tumbled the puppy onto his side.

He yelped in indignation but was back on his feet in an instant ‘attacking’ her hand with licks and yelps. The others joined in when they saw this new game and Regina allowed herself to be distracted by warm furry bodies and jubilant youth.

“Breakfast, guys!” Henry shoved the two large bowls out into the kitchen and scooped a truly ridiculous amount of food into each bowl.

The pups yelped happily and wobbled their way back to Henry and the food he represented.

Henry sat on the floor, smiling and watching them eat for a moment but he was sure not to bother them whilst they ate. Graham had been clear that he was not to try and steal food from the pups as they would take exception.

“Wash your hands, honey.” Regina reminded him gently. “You really are going to be late and Emma is waiting.”

“Okay.” Henry hurried to do as he was told and rushed back to scoop up his backpack and rummage through it. “I need to give you this.”

Regina dutifully held out her hand as Henry dug through his bag. For whatever reason, she expected something mundane. Something like a permission slip for a school trip or a note about the soccer incident the day before. Anything but the canister she was handed.

Regina frowned down at the lipstick in her palm. She stared at it. Certainly not hers, she wouldn’t be caught with that brand or indeed that shade. She looked up at Henry expectantly.

“It’s Snow White’s.” Henry grinned at her and shouldered his bag. “You said you needed it for the next part of your plan. I thought a lipstick would be good because of the whole kissing thing. Sorry, Graham.”

Graham grunted from his place on the floor being crawled on by puppies. He had accepted that this plan was in their future but he had resolved to be surly about it and probably possessive afterwards.

“It’s nearly used up so I figured she must use it a lot and that would help?”

Henry looked so earnest then, so eager to have been helpful that Regina was forced to shake herself from her mental reeling at how easily her son took to theft and deception.

She comforted herself with the knowledge that it must be a genetic component from his matriarchal family line. It wasn’t like Snow and Emma had never been light fingered in their pasts after all.

“Uh, yes, that is…helpful.” Regina managed a smile and allowed herself to be engulfed in another cuddle from her son.

“I’m glad you’re both okay.” Henry whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek.

“Just a drunk to full of himself.” Regina managed a genuine smile. “Now, Emma will be waiting and I have to take this one to the hospital for a tetanus.” Regina nodded to Graham and was treated to another noncommittal grunt for her efforts.

“Okay. Feel better, Graham.” Henry grinned down at Graham and the pups. “Behave, guys. Bye!”

Henry made a dash for the front door and Regina looked down at Graham, listening to the front door swing closed.

“Does a lipstick help?” Graham raised his eyebrows, wondering if he was about to be tasked with acting as a lookout whilst Regina stole something more effective than cosmetics.

“A lipstick is perfect.” Regina turned the lipstick over and over in her hands. She opened it to find that it was indeed worn right down. An insipid frosty pink shade. Typical Snow. “I can repurpose it easily.”

“Got the magic?” Graham sighed when the puppies, having eaten their fill, seemed all intent on crawling up onto his lap at the same time. The fact that there was enough lap for each of them didn’t seem to enter into it.

“More than enough.” Regina turned the lipstick over and over still. “It’s a different kind of magic. Chemistry really.”

“But you’re still worried about my lack?”

“You lack for nothing.” Regina dismissed that out of hand and then set the lipstick very deliberately on the table.

“So you’re _not_ worried about the wolf eating me when the moon comes?”

“Oh, definitely still panicking about that but not as much as I perhaps should be.” Regina managed a smile and sucked in a steadying breath.

“Why?”

“Because now I have a plan.” Regina stood suddenly and looked uncertainly about herself. Disbelieving that she was about to actually do this. “I’m going to get dressed.”

“To cart me off to the hospital?” Graham’s voice was wry.

“No. To the Vault. We have things to do.”

Graham raised his eyebrows.

“We’ll go to the hospital after. No point in us going twice.”

“What?” Graham gently pushed the pups aside and stood to tower over her.

“We’re waking up Charming today.”

“ _What?!”_

“Well, this afternoon. I’ll need time to fix the potion. Get someone to pick Henry up from school. He can probably stay with Norman. I’ll call Ruby and if not her then Emma and then…”

“Regina.” Graham’s hand closed on her arm and she fumbled to a halt. “Are ye sure?”

Regina swallowed hard.

“I’m sure I can’t lose you.”

“You _won’t_.”

“I can’t take the chance.”

Graham’s jaw clenched when he realised he couldn’t fight her life experience up until now. There was nothing he could say to reassure her. He would just have to keep his word.

And survive.

“We’ve been waiting for the Woodcutter to make the first move. I don’t like that plan. This is the next step and we haven’t the time to _wait and see_ when it comes to our lives.” Regina pressed her lips together and laced her fingers through his. She let loose a slow breath. “I said I’d marry you…I want it to be at night. I want to marry you under the stars, our cathedral will be the trees of our homeland, I want to find Night Guide so he can be your best man.”

“A night wedding?” Graham smiled and it was a little uncertain, like he couldn’t believe he was hearing this from her of all people.

“I’ll wear blue.” Regina nodded.

“You hate weddings.”

“But I love you.”

Graham’s brows rose. She had never…she had never _said it_. She had never admitted it. Not without duress or shame or annoyance that her heart had betrayed her by being so human. She had never said those words to him. He opened his mouth but her fingers stalled him at his lips.

“Don’t. Not yet. Not while there’s still things to do.”

Graham’s jaw clenched but then he pressed a kiss to her fingertips and nodded. She smiled a little and her fingers traced over his lower lip and her nails scratched through his beard.

“When? When can is say it?”

“When I wear blue. When we marry under the stars. I don’t need vows but I need that. Can you…can you do that?”

Graham heaved in a deep breath and nodded without consciously meaning to. He had meant to refuse. Meant to tell her that he’d love her whenever he damn well pleased but that wasn’t what she was asking for. She was asking for him to promise to meet her on the other side of all this. No matter what other hurdles were thrown in their way.

He could do that.

“I will.”

She smiled, arching up onto her toes and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

He growled, leaning in and deepening the kiss. He was not a great fan of words. They never quite meant the same thing as he felt but this helped. That she would allow him this, to replace his words with action.

Regina tangled her fingers in his hair and he surged against her. It caught even him by surprise, that sudden hunger that boiled up in him. He just suddenly had her in his arms and up onto the breakfast bar, pushing her legs wide and making a space for himself between them.

She squeaked, surprised, and that jolted him to a halt.

“Sorry.” He was breathing hard and she was staring at him. “I, uh, that can happen. Hungers…change.”

“We can’t do this.”

Graham nearly whimpered at hearing _that_ from her again but she simply caught her breath and soldiered on.

“In public. You can’t touch me in public.”

“Why?” He scowled. She was his, he’d not be shy about showing it no matter what she said.

“Your eyes are glowing.”

Graham blinked. His eyes didn’t feel different. _He_ didn’t feel different.

“Really?”

“Pretty brightly.” Regina nodded, leaning close so that she could study the phenomenon.

Internal magic. Lighting him up from the inside and showing through his eyes. His flesh and sinews could cover most of it but eyes were windows. He couldn’t hide that. His pale green eyes glowed a white green that throbbed a little in time with his galloping heart. His pupils shone a glimmering silver, blown wide with desire.  

“So I can’t touch you at all outside this house?” Graham looked thoughtful.

“Not unless you learn to control this because there are a couple of things that even cursed residents of our little hamlet are _bound_ to notice.” Regina smirked, her hand rubbing over his chest and measuring his heart rate. Still fast but strong.

“So…I need something to tide me over.” Graham nodded as if this was perfectly obvious.

“I was actually thinking that we need to- -“

“Definitely something to tide me over.”

Regina whooped when she was suddenly hauled up off the table and thrown over his shoulder. She blinked, suddenly the wrong way up and then laughed when she saw the carpet rapidly passing by beneath her. He was wasting no time, his hand possessively over her backside to hold her in place as he bounded up the stairs.

“Well,” her voice was breathless even to her own ears, “maybe something to tide me over too.”

They would go to the Vault. She would make the potion. They’d probably pick him up a pair of sunglasses…but later.

Much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, I know, but mostly filler and I'm not wasting time on it. 
> 
> There is Actual Plot in the next couple of chapters including our favourite Prince...and the inevitable shirtless fight that I'm going to write because...well, I don't need a reason. 
> 
> Hope y'all liked and thanks for being so patient. 
> 
> Laters!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for any medicine related mistakes. I know a bit about animal medicine but not a lot about the human side of things. 
> 
> So if anyone is offended, as always, keep it to yourself. I do not care.

**Chapter 22 – A Rude Awakening**

**_The Hospital…_ **

 

“You’re sure about this?” Graham watched Regina fuss with her purse, trying to cover the shaking in her hands.

“As sure as I am of anything.” She muttered and gave up the pretence entirely, upending her purse over the chair by the bed and rummaging until she found what she needed.

A hipflask.

Uncapping it, Regina tilted it to her mouth and drained half of it in a single pull. She shook her head and cleared her throat at the sharp kick and wordlessly held it out to Graham.

He accepted it from her but didn’t drink from it. He wanted all of his wits about him if this went South. Which things had an alarming habit of doing around the both of them.

The day had been something of a hectic endeavour.

After Graham had bedded her thoroughly that morning, she had become all business and had spent most of her time thinking about another man. Graham couldn’t say he was a fan of this trend.

Still, she had whipped up the potion in record time, as quickly as she would have done back home and moulded it into a new lipstick to use in whatever spell she had cooked up to ‘fool’ Charming into waking up.

Then Graham had been forced to sit through an appointment with a nurse and get some shots to prevent infection and the like. A pointless exercise really. The wolf in him was stronger now, even after just a day, and would eat any disease that tried to come for him in his blood.

Though it had soothed Regina a little so he had put up with it. She had been wound up enough about this whole business with the prince after all.

He looked over at Charming, lain out on the bed like some preserved wax sculpture. The movement of his chest barely perceptible, the only sign of real life given by the blip of the machines monitoring his heartbeat and drastically slow breathing.

Graham wondered if anyone had ever noticed that they never needed to give him a shave or haircut. Then again, maybe they did. Graham needed to shave, he needed is hair cut. Henry certainly did –Graham smirked at the memory of the boy’s new style.

How much had the curse broken down?

Time was beginning to move again. They were slowly reverting to being mortal. There had to be a way of measuring how weak it was. He’d have to talk with Regina about it.

Graham watched her pull the lipstick from the pile of junk she had poured out of her purse and uncap it.

Later. They’d deal with Curse Geiger counters later.

Regina lifted a compact mirror, flipped it open and applied the lipstick. It was a pale, pale, pink colour. So pale it was almost white. She applied it with intense care, making sure that every part of her mouth was covered and pressed her lips together, making sure the waxy layer had stuck.

She looked up at Graham to find him watching her with his arms folded over his chest and his nose wrinkled in distaste.

She glanced at herself in the mirror again, taking in her appearance and not just the covering over her mouth.

“Oh, god, that _really_ doesn’t suit me, does it?”

“Let’s,” Graham’s fingers dug into his biceps and he huffed out a slow breath, “get this over with.”

“I don’t know what you’re so upset about. _You_ don’t have to kiss him.” Regina tossed the lipstick back onto the pile of detritus that she seemed collect in her purse. She huffed out a steadying breath and took three large steps, stopping beside the bed. She gripped the metal frame so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, we do.” She murmured. Hitching the metal frame of the bed up, she lowered it slowly, stepping closer to the bed.

Graham unfolded his arms and took a step closer before he stopped himself. He swallowed a growl and clenched his fists.

Regina glanced at him once more, steadied herself and then turned to Charming.

 She tilted his chin up and his head back, opening his mouth as if she were about to perform CPR. Not entirely untrue. To fool him into thinking it was True Love, even whilst unconscious, she’d have to do more than just lay her lips over his. Placing one hand on his chest over his sluggishly beating heart, Regina found that she’d run out of excuses and decided to hell with it.

Bending to Charming, she pressed her lips to his, dug her nails into his chest through the hospital gown he wore and exhaled into his mouth in time with his own breathing. Only she wasn’t just breathing air into him, she poured magic into him too.

It hurt more than she expected.

With a buck, the magic jolted through Charming’s body, a small piece of it ripped from every cell in Regina’s body and poured into his. Her lips burned when the lipstick she wore ignited and exploded outwards in a rainbow hued flash of manufactured True Love and Regina reared back as if slapped.

She clapped her hand over her mouth, growling low in her throat in discomfort and held out her hand to keep Graham back. She had an acrid and metallic taste in her mouth

There was a chance she’d have to do this several times. She hadn’t told him that because she’d known he would never agree, but she had the feeling he was beginning to get an inkling.

A soft groan reached her ears and Regina looked sharply down. She leaned further over the bed and watched Charming intently.

The machines hooked up to him blipped with a swifter tempo, he frowned, groaned again and –slowly- opened his eyes.

Regina huffed something like a laugh and glanced at Graham.

“I told you it would work.” She turned back to Charming, patting him on the cheek sharply to try and bring him out of it quicker. “Charming, can you hear me?”

Charming blinked several times, his eyes bleary and taking a few moments to focus in concert. He –finally- focussed on Regina and she had time only to widen her eyes in comprehension before he launched himself from the bed, his hands twisted into claws and grasping for Regina’s neck.

Regina yelped and threw herself violently backwards away from Charming’s reaching hands. She backhanded him hard across the jaw with her braced arm and he grunted, sent staggering by the blow.

Charming snarled, an animal sound of rage and lunged for her again. His eyes widened when he became aware of what was restricting him from the object of his rage.

Strings, wires and tubes laced across his chest and arms and –looking down- he went a little nuts when confronted with the joys of a catheter.

Charming tore at them, hauling them from his body with no small amount of discomfort on his part and stared blearily about the room.

The lights were so bright, the walls white and smooth, like marble. The floor was cold under his bare feet and he was in pain. He was in pain and Regina was there.

He launched himself at her again.

Only to be met head on by a high speed Huntsman to the face.

The Huntsman ducked under Charming’s wild swing and caught the other man about the waist in a vice like grip. Charming coughed when all the air was forced from his lungs and he was flipped over, landing hard on his back on the floor.

Charming kicked out blindly, catching the Huntsman on the back of the knee by sheer dumb luck and staggering him.

“Get _back!”_ The Huntsman snarled at Regina when she took a step forward to try and help and he decided he’d had enough of Charming’s antics.

He gripped Charming by the back of his neck and the scruff of his smock and threw him up. Straight up.

Charming coughed and saw stars when his back slammed into the ceiling and then he was dropped unceremoniously to land with a winding force on the floor. He lay there, gasping, and the Huntsman wasted no time in pressing a knee to his lower back and wrapping a hand around his throat, fingers digging into the soft skin there.

 “One more move, and you’ll _never_ wake up from what I do to you.” Graham snarled low and terrible and Charming ceased his struggles. Something in that tone warned him not to push it.

“Where am I?” Charming finally seethed and Regina slowly approached rubbing at the brace on her arm. She’d hit him as hard as she could and rattled herself to her bones. 

“It’s a town called Storybrooke.” Regina flexed her fingers and nodded to her Huntsman when he looked over at her. She was alright. She probably wouldn’t even bruise. “In the Curse, this is where it took us.”

Charming blinked, taking that in and remained still where he was. He knew that the Huntsman could easily kill him in this position and he was at a loss as to why Regina had not ordered it already.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to play along.” Regina nodded to the Huntsman and he sat back, taking his hand of Charming’s throat and his knee of his back.

Charming sat up in a hurry and then stilled himself when the Huntsman’s lips peeled back over his teeth.

“Play along?” Charming looked between them and took in their strange clothing. The Queen’s hair cut short to a style that barely reached her jaw.

She looked…different. Not just her clothes but her herself.

“We have a few minutes before a nurse comes through that door. Now, you can either act the amnesiac and be discharged into my care or you can try and tell everyone here that you’re really Prince Charming and be locked away into a mental institution for the rest of your life.”

“None of this is making sense.” Charming slowly got to his feet, keeping a weather eye on the Huntsman. “Why would I want to be…discharged into your care?”

“I will explain _everything_ to you once we are back at my house but –until then- you’re going to have to trust us.”

“Really?” Charming coughed a laugh. “Do you hear yourself? Where’s Snow? What have you done with her?”

“She’s fine and you can go running to her if you want to but she won’t know you.”

“She’ll know me.” Charming scowled.

“No, she won’t.” Regina said firmly, rummaging until she found wet wipes in her purse and scrubbing enthusiastically at her mouth. Gods, the taste of Snow’s love was…eurgh. There weren’t words. She felt like she had battery acid on her tongue and iron filings for teeth. “That’s part of the curse. No one remembers who they were in our world.”

“You’re lying.” Charming shook his head. “This is another trick.”

Regina huffed out a breath and looked up at her Huntsman.

“I’m beginning to see it from your point of view.” She admitted and glanced at something wrapped around her wrist. Some sort of bracelet. “We should have just dragged him out of here and THEN woken him up. We don’t have much time.”

“You don’t believe her.” The Huntsman didn’t ask a question but Charming answered it anyway.

“Would you in my position?” Charming glared at Regina who returned it with a bored ease.

“I helped you once before, just as I did Snow, I’m helping you again now.” The Huntsman ignored the surprised glare that Regina directed at the side of his head. “This is the only way you can see Snow –your Snow- again.”

“You’re working _with_ her.” Charming looked between them, standing shoulder to shoulder. “She’s not controlling you, you’re doing this _willingly._ ”

“Aye, I am. That’s how much things have changed. The Huntsman and the Evil Queen are willing allies, united by a greater threat.”

“A greater threat than _her?_!” Charming pointed at Regina and she smirked.

“That was very nearly flattering.”

“Not _now_ , pet.” The Huntsman gritted at her. He turned back to Charming. “We need your help to break this curse. You need our help to find your way in this world.”

“I can explain what’s going on. People will see sense.”

Regina snorted and the Huntsman ignored it, never looking away from Charming.

“Prince Charming, Snow White, the Evil Queen, every single one of them are fairy tales in this land. There is no magic in this world. You’ll sound like a raving lunatic and they will lock you away accordingly. It’s us or imprisonment.”

“And going with you will be any better?” Charming laughed. “I’m not stupid.”

“Well, the jury’s still out on that one.” Regina rubbed at her brace once more. She decided Graham had a better chance of getting through to him and busied herself with packing everything back into her purse.

“The nurse will be here soon, there will be a massive fuss about you waking up,” Graham spoke urgently but in a commanding tone that made Charming stand straighter, “trust us or be treated as a madman.”

“How can I trust you? She’s spent years trying to kill me!” Charming waved wildly at Regina.

“Trying to kill Snow.” Regina corrected mildly. “You were collateral.”

Charming made an irritated sound and then looked back to the Huntsman.

“ _I_ haven’t spent years trying to kill you and I am _telling_ you that this is the best way. Pretend you know nothing of who you are or how you got here and we will take you to see Snow. You’ll never get out of here otherwise.” The Huntsman looked like he was trying not to shake Regina until she rattled. She wasn’t exactly helping.

“What guarantee do I have that you’ll treat me any better?”

“None at all.” Graham shrugged. “So, what do you have to lose? Stay here and be locked up forever or come with us and have the chance of being reunited with your wife and child.”

Regina very nearly rolled her eyes at herself. She should have known to have thrown the baby into the mix first thing. Snow might be able to fend for herself, his daughter –however- would need his protection, just in the same way that Regina wouldn’t hesitate an instant to help Henry over Graham.

She knew from personal experience how much Graham could endure and survive, Henry was her son. There was no contest.

“Emma? She’s here? Can I see her? Do _you_ have her?”

Charming lanced Regina with a look but she was too busy staring at him with numb shock to do anything.

_Emma._

Regina tilted her head and set her meltdown on a timer. There was a chance, of course, that the Emma that was Charming's daughter was not the Emma that had barged into Regina's life weeks before but...there was a reason that Regina did not believe in coincidence. She inhaled deeply through her nose, steadying herself. She shot a meaningful glance at Graham but he –at least- looked as surprised as she was.

“I don’t have her.” Regina shook her head. “She went through the wardrobe before I could get to her. Your plan worked.”

Charming let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and closed his eyes briefly, thanking any god that would listen.

“And she’s with Snow?” Charming opened his eyes again and they seemed over bright.

Regina felt a pang go through her at the sight. God, empathy was a bitch. She tried to steel herself against it but…damn it, she’d have felt exactly the same way had their positions been reversed.

Well, no, probably not. She’d have _succeeded_ in ripping her mortal enemy’s throat out had she awoken to find them looming over her.

“They live together in a nice house.”

Charming frowned.

“Wait, if they’re both alive and well…why aren’t you doing everything in your power to make that not the case?”

“We don’t have _time_ for this.” Regina growled when the Huntsman glanced wildly at her, not sure how to answer on her behalf. “The Curse was a trick. It didn’t work at all how I expected it would and now we need your help to break it. So, are you in or out?”

The door to the private room swung open on the heels of those words and the change that rolled over Regina and the Huntsman was stunning.

They both shifted into a relaxed stance, standing apart from Charming but having shifted slightly closer to one another. Any trace of irritation had left Regina’s face and the Huntsman had submerged completely beneath a much more affable façade.

“He’s awake!” The nurse blurted, staring open mouthed at Charming. “Oh my god, what are you doing out of bed?!”

“He just woke up.” Regina’s voice was calm and commanding, drawing the nurse’s attention away from Charming. “He was confused and agitated, we thought it best to let him do what he liked rather than try and restrain him.”

“And you didn’t think to call one of us?” The nurse frowned.

“He’s been awake a grand total of thirty seconds.” Regina lied flawlessly with a slightly reproaching tone. “I was just about to come for you when you came in.”

The nurse favoured Regina with a long look and then shook it off, making her patient her priority.

“Alright, never mind that, why don’t you sit down, hon?” She put a calm smile on her face and advanced on Charming with an assured professionalism that made him back away from her and towards the bed. “That’s it, up you get.”

Charming frowned, having no idea what to do with a total stranger herding him into a bed whilst he wore little more than a smock. He didn’t think he even had a pair of smalls on. Gods, this was embarrassing.

“How are you feeling?” The nurse took his wrist in her hand and looked at her bracelet thing, the same thing Regina had looked at. Though Regina’s had seemed shinier.

“Uh…confused.” Charming settled on. His poker face was a lot worse than Regina’s but that at least had been the truth.

“Okay, that’s to be expected, you’ve been asleep for quite a while.” The nurse nodded at his heart rate and moved on to shining a bright light in his eyes. He winced and jerked back but she got a pupil reaction from him anyway. More than he’d had in the entire time he’d been there.

“How long is a while?”

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” The nurse deflected with an ease that Regina would have been proud of. “Tell me, hon, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Charming looked at her for a long moment and then glanced at Regina and her Huntsman. They both watched him with great intensity and he realised the rest of his life might very well be dictated by his response. If he went along with their plan, he’d have to leave with them. If he didn’t…they’d abandon him to this strange land he knew nothing about and –judging by what he had seen- it was very strange indeed.

So he’d stick with the truth.

“Her.” Charming nodded to Regina.

Regina’s brows rose and she met the nurse’s intense gaze without flinching. The nurse studied her for a long moment and then nodded.

“Well, that makes sense, the Mayor was the one to bring you to us in the first place.”

Charming nodded. It would seem that the nurse genuinely had no idea who or what Regina truly was. She wouldn’t be so relaxed in her company otherwise.

“What is your name?” He asked her, trying to stall for time and make his decision with some sort of good sense.

“I’m Sybil.” Sybil smiled. “And you are?”

Charming felt the attentions of the entire room condense down onto him and remembered the Huntsman’s words. He was a fairy tale in this land. A figment of children’s imaginations.

Charming shrugged and made his choice.

“I don’t remember.”

Sybil pressed her lips into a smile and nodded her head as if that was nothing unusual.

“Well, don’t you worry about that. I’m sure it will come back to you. Now, why don’t you lie back and I’ll go and get the doctor and we can have a proper look at you. Make sure you’re alright.”

“I feel fine.” Charming frowned down at her. “I don’t need a doctor.”

“It’s standard procedure.” Sybil held up a placating hand. “Nothing invasive, I promise. Just a few tests.”

“I won’t be having tests.” Charming’s voice became solid, immovable and Sybil blinked.

 The only other people she’d ever heard talk like that were the Mayor and the Sheriff the night he’d brought the Mayor in when she’d been stabbed. No one had _dared_ question his orders that night.

“Tell you what,” Regina stepped forward, her hands clasped together in front of her and an admittedly kind smile on her face, “why don’t you let the doctors do their thing and get it over with? That way you can get out of here as soon as possible.”

The pleasant expression –a stunning lie in and of itself- never left her face but her meaning was clear. Sit down and shut up so she could get him out of there.

Charming’s jaw clenched so hard that it clicked. He nodded once and reluctantly hopped up onto the bed.

“Okay,” Sybil cast a glance at the Mayor and the strange hold she seemed to have over the patient, “why don’t you think of something we can call you –anything you like- until you remember your name, and I’ll fetch the doctor.”

“Okay.” Charming nodded and Sybil left them again, shooting another glance at Regina and her Huntsman. Charming watched her go and the glass door slide shut behind her. His gaze landed heavily on Regina.

“Mayor?”

“In place of ‘majesty’.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. “Thought of a name yet?”

“Why not David?” It was his name after all.

“Not the more regal ‘James’?.” Regina smirked at him and her Huntsman nudged her with his shoulder as he stepped around her, his silent warning to behave herself clear. She twisted her mouth in distaste but relented. “David it is.”

“And your name?” Charming looked to the Huntsman.

“Graham.” The Huntsman –Graham- dipped his head in a nod. “I’m the Sheriff here.”

“Makes sense.” Charming rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand through his hair. His smock shifted and he became increasingly aware of what he was –or wasn’t- wearing. He glanced at Regina and she seemed to read his thoughts.

She smirked and chuckled.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Graham shot her a look.

“Yours are much nicer.” She assured him with mock wide eyed innocence and Graham snorted in annoyance but didn’t rise to the bait.

“So the rumours were true?” Charming looked between them. “You really had to…?” He waved at Regina who stiffened at the sudden turn the conversation had taken.

“Would you share such intimate details of what goes on between yourself and _your_ wife?” Graham turned, his arms deceptively relaxed at his sides and spoke before Regina could.

His voice was such a horrific growl that the windows thrummed with it and Charming rocked back away from him even though they were separated by a whole eight feet of distance. 

“You…you’re married?” Charming blinked. He’d heard…well, it would seem that the rumour mill _couldn’t_ be trusted.

He caught sight of the look that passed between the Hunts- -Graham and Regina. Her eyes spoke of something like gratitude and his softened from the hard frosted emerald he had flashed at Charming into something altogether more protective and familiar.

Charming had been told that he looked at Snow like that.

Things really _had_ changed.

“Aye, we are…though no one else here knows of it. It would be better if you didn’t mention it. We’re dealing with enough as it is.”

“And whose fault is that?” Regina asked him archly and Graham did nothing more than bare his teeth at her for an instant. She smirked in response.

Gods, they were strange.

“I take it, those of us with our true memories are in the minority?”

“Yes, the population of this town numbers in the thousands and –as far as I am aware- there are perhaps half a dozen of us with memories of our true lives.” Regina huffed out a breath and lifted her mirror, scowling when she saw how diving backwards across the room had mussed her hair. She spent a few seconds fixing it. “With one exception, all of us know better than to go screaming from the rooftops who and what we are.”

“And the exception?”

Regina snapped her little mirror closed and then carefully stowed it in her purse.

“Treated as a freak.” Her jaw clenched so hard it clicked. She held up her hand when Charming opened his mouth with another question. “Let’s just get through whatever hoops I have to jump through to get you out of here and then you can ask me anything you want. Deal?”

Charming clipped his mouth closed and frowned. Since when did Regina _bargain?_ She took what and who she wanted, she shook people upside down until the thing she wanted fell out, she terrorised and demanded. She did not ask and she did not deal.

Had she really changed?

Could he afford not to find out?

“Deal.” Charming nodded.

The door swung open again and a man in a white coat strode in, looping something from around his neck as he approached the bed. Charming sat back and eyed it with distrust before the stranger caught his look and slowed.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Whale.” The man looped whatever he held into one hand and held out his other.

Charming accepted after a moment.

“I guess you should call me David.” Charm…David offered a scant smile.

“You remember?”

“It feels familiar.” David shrugged.

“Good enough for me.” Whale offered a smile and stepped closer, lifting the strange black rope in his hands and holding the flattened end out towards charming, looping the forked end into his own ears.

David sat hurriedly back.

“Hey, nothing to worry about, just a stethoscope. I’m only going to have a listen to your heart.”

David frowned at him. He shot an accusing glance to Regina who barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“See?” Regina approached Whale and took the business end of the stethoscope from him. Pulling it to her own chest, she slid it under the neckline of her shirt and held it pressed against her skin. She didn’t even flinch at the cold. “Nothing to worry about.”

David studied her for a long moment, frowning at her doing something so…soothing and then turned back to Whale.

“Okay.” He sat obediently whilst Whale listened to his heart and then his lungs. That bright light was shone in his eyes again and he obeyed the command not to flinch away.

It passed like that for quite some time and Regina wasn’t needed again to prove how harmless something was until Whale approached Charming with a needle.

   Charming caught the glint of sharp steel, no matter how small it was, and reacted on instinct.

He tumbled backwards off the bed, landed on his feet and took three giant steps backwards until he was pressed against the wall.

“Try and touch me with that and I’ll stick it in your heart.” Charming snarled and Regina’s brows rose, a smirk tugging at her mouth.

She was impressed despite herself but she decided that a better opportunity wasn’t about to present itself.

“Doctor, perhaps you should leave further tests for later. David seems a little distressed.”

“Really? Ten years in medical school hadn’t clued me in on that.” Whale looked at her askance and changed his mind when she just smiled sweetly at him. He was reminded who wrote the budget for this hospital and –thus- his salary. “What do you suggest, Madam Mayor?”

“Discharge him from the hospital. I think not being here will alleviate much of his discomfort.”

“I can’t just…”

“He seems pretty healthy to me.” Regina noted. “I’m sure a night away won’t do him any harm.”

“In your professional medical opinion, you mean?” Whale eyeballed her and she returned it with that same beatific smile that raced a chill down his spine.

“In my opinion as his legal next of kin. Let him spend the night away from the hospital. Blood tests can wait, I’m sure.”

Whale’s jaw rocked to the side and –looking at his patient- he saw that she was right. Aside from being trapped in a hospital room and becoming more and more agitated by the second, David seemed the picture of obdurate health. Which was odd, considering. He’d been in a coma for…Whale forgot how long exactly, but a _long_ time. He should have suffered wasting, loss of motor skills and reaction time. He should NOT be leaping off beds and across rooms in a single bound.

Still, there was no way Whale was getting any blood out of him tonight. Not without calling at least half a dozen orderlies to sit on the man whilst he did so and excessive adrenaline or sedatives would skew the readings.

“He can’t be on his own.” Whale turned to Regina and she graciously didn’t gloat at winning.

“He can stay with us.”

“Us?”

“I don’t –for one second- believe that you haven’t heard the gossip, doctor.” Regina looked him dead in the eye and he smirked, dropping his gaze first.

“Fair enough.” He stepped back and waved her towards the door. “There’s some paperwork for you to sign.”

“Of course.” Regina preceded him out of the room and listened dutifully when the doctor continued. “Is this going to take long? Henry is…”

The rest of the conversation was cut short by the door swinging closed behind them and David was left alone in the room with Sybil and The Hun…Graham.

“Well, I think I can rustle up some clothes fit for public viewing. Will you stay with him?” Sybil looked up at Graham and he nodded curtly.

“Looks like that decision’s been made for me.” He managed something like a rueful smile to soften his words though it was pretty clear he wasn’t a fan of Regina’s choice in boarding for their new guest.

“Right.” Sybil nodded and hurried from the room.

The silence pounded out in the room between the two men and Charming was the first to break it.

“You threw me into the ceiling.”

Graham turned to look at him and tilted his head.

“I didn’t know you were anywhere near that strong.”

“I told you, things have changed.” Graham’s tone put a very full stop to the conversation and David huffed out a slow breath.

“You love her.” Charming tried again after a moment and Graham just blinked slowly at him.

Charming looked down at his hands and mulled it over. Somebody loved Regina. The Evil Queen. A good man, if Charming’s read of the Huntsman had been correct. A good man loved the Evil Queen…this world was getting stranger and stranger by the second.

“She seems…different.”

“She is.”

“You’re different too. What did she do to you to make you so strong?”

“It wasn’t her.”

“Right.” Charming heaved a sigh. It would seem that the Huntsman was less of a conversationalist than he even had been in the Enchanted Forest…but Charming owed him his life. So did Snow.

“What made her change?”

Graham tilted his head and he suddenly was Graham, Charming recognised. The barely restrained wildness of the Huntsman faded into something a little more civilised.

“Time. Freedom. Being a mother.”

“She bred?!” Charming shut down his surprise hard at the positively thunderous expression that rolled over Graham’s face. “Alright, sorry, this is just…an adjustment.”

Graham’s jaw rocked to the side and he nodded his head once.

“I remember.” He went on to explain when Charming just looked at him. “I only recently regained my memories. I had two lives running around in my head and it left me…confused.”

“Does it get any better?”

“Aye, it does. You don’t have to deal with another set of memories at least. Just adjusting to this place and it _is_ going to be a hell of an adjustment for you.”

“Well, I wasn’t a magic user before so…” Charming’s voice faded to a halt when Graham chuckled. “What?”

“There isn’t magic here but this world is –in many ways- far more advanced than ours. They call it technology and nearly anyone can use it but it may as well be magic for some of the things it can do.” Graham shrugged. “Magic is a somewhat limited affair. The only source of it here is the curse.”

“So, Regina doesn’t have her magic?”

Graham bared his teeth in something that might have been mistaken for a smile by an idiot.

“The Queen is hardly helpless.”

“That honestly never occurred to me.” Charming admitted.

Regina had never been a foe he’d underestimated. He’d seen her ‘powerless’ once. It had come back to bite them and then some. He thought again that they should have killed her when they’d had the chance. He should have followed his instincts and had her ventilated by a firing squad even despite Snow’s protests and now…now he was going home with her and her general.

The Huntsman, a man just as feared as Regina.

A shadow, a ruthless assassin, someone that could sneak up on even Ruby.

 _He’d_ been the one that Charming had feared coming for them in the night.

Regina would toy with them, want them to suffer. If the Huntsman had ever slipped her leash, if she had ever decided to be done with it and kill Snow and Charming, all she’d have had to do was give the order to the Huntsman.

He’d have made a gift of Snow and Charming’s corpses to her before sunrise the next morning.

“Keep that in mind and we’ll all get along swimmingly.” Graham summoned another almost smile and it dropped from his mouth when Sybil reappeared. His blank expression being far less alarming than his smile at that moment.

“Here we are, hon. Jeans, tee shirt, shirt and shorts. There’s some socks and these shoes should fit you. I even managed to rustle up some spares for you until we can get something more permanent sorted.” Sybil placed the bundle of clothes she had found on the bed and waggled the bag of spares at him too. “I’ll just give you a bit of privacy.” She stepped back and pulled the screen around the bed, giving him the chance to get changed without an audience.

She stepped back, standing level if not beside the Sheriff and risked a glance up at him. He tilted his head at her and she hurriedly went back to studying the mess of the room. Wires and tubes everywhere, toppled machinery and bedclothes strewn on the floor.

“He…he did this?” She spoke quietly to Graham and the Sheriff shrugged.

“I helped. He was pretty out of it when he first came too.”

“I see.” Sybil rubbed at her arm and then looked up at him. “You sure you’re okay with him going home with you and the Mayor?”

“He’s fine now and I’ll be there.”

“What about the man that attacked her? You any closer to catching him?”

“The investigation is ongoing.” Graham gave the party line and softened when she had to restrain a flinch at his tone. “I’ve got a few leads that I’m chasing down. I’ll get him.”

Sybil looked up at the Sheriff who at least had the decency to save her from the weight of his regard whilst he frowned at the thought of the man who had attacked his…whatever the Mayor was to him.

Sybil had to admit…Miss Mills seemed nicer when the Sheriff was around and it was kind of cute the way Sheriff Graham was all protective and alpha male around her. She’d bet he’d been pretty pleased when it had all come out that they were dating. Sheriff Graham did not seem like the type who would enjoy not being able to show Miss Mills off as his.

He arched a brow at her and Sybil became aware that she was staring.

“What?” His voice was softer than it had been when he’d been talking about hunting down criminals and Sybil was grateful.

“I was just thinking that,” Sybil felt a flush crawl up her neck and she looked away from him, “that you and the Mayor seem to be…good together.”

Graham’s brows rose and then he smirked.

“I’ve always thought so.” His smile was a little smug and Sybil chuckled when she realised she’d been right.

“It shows. She’s pretty pissed that everyone knows though.” Sybil clipped her teeth together when she realised she might have crossed the line and was relieved when Graham’s laughter rolled around the room.

“Aye, she’s a private person.” His tone was light but Sybil took the hint. The Sheriff was a private person too and –as much as he might like it known that Regina was _his_ \- that was all anyone need know as far as he was concerned.

“Alright, I think I’m ready to go.” David swept aside the curtain and Graham nodded when he saw that the prince had managed to dress himself in such strange clothes without mishap.

There was something to be said for function dictating form no matter where you were.

“Come on, we’ll go find the missus.” Graham picked up the bag Sybil had left for Charming and his spare clothes, nodded to the nurse and then disappeared out of the door into the ward beyond.

Charming trotting after him with an apologetic look to Sybil as to the mess she had to clean up. He didn’t think there was a single part of this night that he didn’t hate…except maybe the slim chance that he’d see Snow and Emma again soon.

It was that and that alone that kept him from trying to cripple the Huntsman whilst his back was turned and make a break for freedom.

For now at least.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!
> 
> Thought I'd post this now because I'm kind of hip deep in a different project that is nothing at all to do with Fanfiction and will be in it for the foreseeable. I will attempt to keep writing but -as always- real life intrudes so updates may be even more sparse than usual. 
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there, there is one more chapter already written but I'm putting y'all on rations because I don't know when I'll next have the time to devote to this. 
> 
> Cheers!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO UPDATES IN ONE NIGHT?!
> 
> SAY IT AIN'T SO!
> 
> It's freaking so, by the by. 
> 
> I forgot that this chapter came between the last and the shirtless fight one. 
> 
> Next chapter. 
> 
> Next chapter, I promise. 
> 
> In which Charming adjusts to the time and place he finds himself in. 
> 
> And hair dye.

**Chapter 23 – Stranger Things**

**_The Manor…_ **

 

Charming hurried out of the carriage thing as soon as he was given the okay from Regina and slammed the door closed on his heels with a wide eyed alarm.

He _never_ wanted to be in one of them again.

A truck. What the hell? Like some sort of bizarre horseless carriage that snarled like a dragon and smelled even worse.

Charming had slain the last beast that had growled at him like that.

Graham dropped down out of the truck and arched a brow at him.

Well, Charming amended, he’d killed the last dragon that had growled at him like that. He didn’t feel up to testing his mettle against the Huntsman just yet. Even if he did wear a pleasant expression sometimes and go by the name Graham here.

Graham turned back to the truck and held onto the door when Regina slid over the long seat and took his place behind the wheel.

“Straight there and straight back.” He warned her in a low voice.

“Really? There was me planning on standing on a street corner with a target painted on my back.” She arched a brow at him and reached out to close the door. She stilled when his hand landed on her wrist. She sighed. “Straight there and straight back. On my word as an evil mastermind.”

Graham nodded and moved to step back so she could close the door.

“One more thing.”

Graham grunted in surprise when her hand fisted around his tie and she hauled him forward a step, her mouth crushing against his.

The kiss did not last long but it was searing hot and _thorough._ A crackle of magic sparked between them and Charming was beginning to get the sense that he had been lied to about Regina being apparently without her former powers.

“Much better.” Regina released Graham after a stretched moment and sucked on her lower lip, reached up to sweep the stain of her more familiar dark lipstick from Graham’s mouth with her thumb. She was treated to a grinning nip to the pad of her thumb and she smirked herself.

“He left a _terrible_ taste in my mouth. Now go, before Charming gets more of an eyeful than he deserves.” Regina pushed him away with a gentle shove to his chest and Graham smirked, stepping back and closing the door for her.

She twisted the keys in the ignition and waved to Graham through the open window as she drove away.

Charming watched her go with a somewhat bemused frown and met Graham’s gaze (a _glowing_ gaze) when the other man turned to him.

“She really does love you.”

“You needn’t sound so surprised.” Graham thrust the bag of clothes he held against Charming’s chest and walked past him. “Regina’s capacity for love is the reason we’re in this to begin with.”

“What does that mean?” Charming stopped short when Graham turned and extended his hand to him before he could cross the threshold of the gate.

“It means exactly what it sounds like. Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

Graham resisted the urge to growl.

“Because you can’t cross her wards unless expressly invited by one of her family.”

“Right.” Charming warily held out his hand and Graham wasted no time in gripping it, hauling him over the threshold and then hurriedly releasing him. Charming didn’t miss the way the other man scrubbed his palm over the thigh of his ‘jeans’ as he turned towards the door of the property.

Charming looked up at it and realised that it looked a lot friendlier than her castle had been in the Enchanted Forest. Then again, she had married into that, not built it herself.

This house –though it was so large it could scarcely be defined as such- was imposing but not sharp and brittle looking like the castle had been. It was all smooth marble lines and pillars. A gleaming white in the growing darkness. It looked stately but not malevolent.

Which was…exactly like Regina.

You didn’t come across the malevolence until she could see the whites of your eyes and you were too close to avoid it.

Charming looked back down when he heard the front door open and saw Graham holding his hand out again.

Charming accepted the other man’s invitation and put up with the barely restrained disgust on Graham’s face when he was forced to touch him again.

Charming didn’t mention it. He had the sense that very few people were allowed to touch Graham, judging by the five feet of play room that everyone they had come across had given him. The only person seemingly allowed within the fierce sphere of Graham’s personal space was Regina herself and –when she was in it- everyone kept more of a distance than usual.

“I’ll show you where you can wash up.” Graham started for one of the sweeping staircases curving around the vaulted entryway of the house.

“Is that a hint?” Charming followed after him, noting that the smooth clean lines and pale colouring continued throughout the interior of the manor as well.

“Yes. You smell.” Graham didn’t bother to hide it and strode down the corridor towards the guest room.

“Wow, not much one for people skills are you?”

“Not without an audience, no.” Graham opened the door and waved inside. “You can keep your clothes here. This is where you’ll sleep. This is the bathroom.”

Graham stepped into the room opposite and Charming listened intently when he went on to give a brief tutorial on the plumbing. Indoor plumbing, wow. He got the sense he would not be told twice and found it somewhat bizarre that _Regina_ had been the one to treat him with more kindness than the Huntsman.

“You don’t like me at all, do you?” Charming dropped his bag of clothes inside the doorway of the room where he was to sleep when Graham forced him back out of the bathroom doorway so that he could leave.

Graham looked at him with those frosted green eyes of his and released a slow breath through his nose.

“I was raised by wolves. I am not tame. I _am_ territorial. You’re in my den, you tried to kill my wife not an hour ago and –given the chance- you’ll do it again. How would _you_ feel if Regina was to stay in the same house as you and Snow?”

Charming tilted his head and nodded.

“Fair enough.” He looked Graham up and down and realised something. “This isn’t going to be resolved until we knock the stuffing out of each other, is it?”

Graham held his gaze and nodded once.

“Well, can it wait until tomorrow? I’m still a little stiff.”

Graham smirked.

“I wouldn’t dream of sparkling you until you were on top form.” Graham stepped back and ducked his head in an almost bow before spinning away and starting down the corridor. He called over his shoulder. “Soap is in the green bottle. Feel free to use as much as you want.”

Charming huffed out a slow breath and tried to slow his heart rate. For a second there, just a second, he’d thought the Huntsman had been about to settle the dominance issue then and there and Charming really wasn’t up to it.

Looking at the fluid prowl of the Huntsman melting away into the dim shadows of the corridor, Charming didn’t think he’d ever be up to it.

Turning away, he took longer to bathe than he usually would have. Not just to doubly make sure that he had scrubbed as much offensive smell from himself as he could (though it was arguable as to whether or not apple scented soap was less offensive) but also to savour the drumming spray of apparently endless hot water.

Technology, Graham had called it. Nearly anyone could use it.

Charming could get behind that. He could get _way_ behind that if it meant miniature waterfalls of hot water in his house.

Not that he had a house, but that was temporary. As soon as he found Snow, he’d make her believe, they’d break the curse together and defeat Regina and be returned home…without hot –what had Graham called it- showers.

Oh well, win some and lose some, he supposed.

He took some time to dry with the softest towels he had ever come across and put on his clothes again. It was a moment to scrub his hands through his hair so it wasn’t sticking up at every angle and then he started for the stairs to risk the Huntsman’s hospitality once more.

It said a lot about Graham that Charming was relieved to find Regina had returned in the time it had taken him to shower.

“So, he remembers everything?”

Charming’s pace slowed towards the sounds of habitation he could hear in a room in the back of the house. Judging by the scents it was the kitchen and, by the soft cadence of that voice, a child was here.

Graham had been telling the truth, it would seem that Regina really did have a child. A son, if Charming’s guess at the child’s gender was correct.

“It certainly seems that way.” Regina answered amidst the clatter of metal against metal and Charming felt himself unclench when he looked around the side of the open doorway to the kitchen and found that she wielded nothing more dangerous than pots and pans. Did nothing more nefarious than place them on…something that held rings of fire that flared to her command.

More technology?

“But that means he won’t know how to act here. He won’t know how to work any of the stuff that we do.” Her apparent son was kneeling on a stool beside the island work surface at which she inspected the ingredients of the meal that she apparently intended on cooking.

Herself.

Bizarre.

“Well, he told the doctors that he doesn’t remember anything at all so I suppose that will grant him some leeway.” Regina inspected a boiling pot and turned back to the boy. “You want mashed potatoes or fried?”

“Cheesy mash?”

“You want cheese on your steak.” She tilted her head at him in reproach and the boy just grinned at her, flipping his…blue hair out of his face.

“Cheesy mash?”

Regina’s mouth twisted though it didn’t do much to hide her smirk and she held up a finger. “Fine, this once.”

“Yes!” The boy punched the air.

“You’ll eat all of your carrots in return I’m sure.”

“Yuck, veggies.” The boy made a face at his mother’s back when she turned to inspect the empty pan over the hob, slicing a nob of butter into it to watch it slide around as it melted.

“Don’t make faces, Henry. The wind shall change and your face will freeze that way.” She spoke without looking at him and Henry’s response was to stick his fingers into his mouth and pull it wide, crossing his eyes.

Of course, with his vision obscured, he had no warning to protect himself from the dish towel that Regina threw at him.

He yelped when it flopped over his head and tugged it away with a laugh.

“I haven’t put cheese in anything yet, you know.”

“I’ll be good.” Henry abruptly bargained and she shook her head at his antics but –again- the smile wasn’t far from her mouth.

Charming was disconcerted to note that she had a nice smile. When she wasn’t grinning at turning someone’s innards into outtards he supposed.

“Where’s Graham?” Henry accepted a carrot from his mother and crunched into it despite his earlier words.

“On the prowl. He doesn’t like Charming being here so…try not to be _too_ excited, alright?” She looked him right in the eye and Henry shifted on his chair, chewing thoughtfully.

“I am pretty excited though.” He admitted.

“I know, sweetheart.” Regina reached out and smoothed his hair back from his face, cupping his chin in one motion and waiting for him to meet her eyes before speaking again. “Waking Charming up was a big step towards breaking the curse but there is still a long way to go and Graham…doesn’t always play well with others. Especially not men. In his house.”

“Is he jealous because you had to kiss Charming?” Henry bit into his carrot again.

Charming stiffened. He hadn’t given much thought as to why he had woken up with his lips on fire. He’d been too consumed with his worst nightmare looming over the bed at him and had reacted accordingly. _Regina’s_ kiss had woken him?

This _was_ a strange world.

“Exceedingly so.” Regina smirked, obviously not entirely displeased with that turn of events.

“Mom, you’re enjoying this!” Henry accused and Regina chuckled.

“It’s not like _he’s_ never kissed anyone else. I figure now we’re even.”

“He was confused about the curse breaking for him.” Henry reproached her. “He loves you.”

“That’s not my fault.” Regina teased her son with a smile on her face and Henry threw the dishrag back at her. She caught it with her injured hand and laughed at him again.

“You love him back.” Henry reminded her and Regina’s eyes smiled even if the expression didn’t quite reach her mouth.

She did not deny it though.

Charming yelped when a hand planted between his shoulder blades and bodily punted him into the room.

He hadn’t even heard Graham’s approach.

“You shouldn’t loiter.” Graham growled at Charming. “It’s rude.”

“And shoving people isn’t?” Charming caught himself and tugged at his shirt to try and recover some dignity.

Graham grunted but gave no other response. He prowled around the island worktop to circle Regina restlessly. He glared at Charming and seemed to wrestle with himself for a long moment. He only calmed a little when Regina reached out and laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand until she had his attention.

“Why don’t you go out and turn the cider barrels? Work off some energy.”

Graham’s nostrils flared at the thought of leaving her alone with Charming but he knew if he stayed then he’d end up doing something inadvisable. Charming was right, this wouldn’t be settled until one of them had been knocked belly up on the ground by the other and Graham _knew_ it wasn’t going to be him in the dirt.

“I’ll be right outside.”

“We’ll be right here.” Regina promised him. “Dinner will be fifteen minutes.”

He grunted again, levelling a glare at Charming, then turned back to Regina. He bent, nipping a kiss to the corner of her jaw, making her work to restrain a shiver. Then he forced himself to prowl out the back door and head for the shed where the cider was maturing.

Regina released a slow breath at the near miss and realised that the situation had become infinitely more tricky.

Graham had been hostile and uncooperative towards other men in her life _before_ being bitten by Adair and now…she got the feeling she was going to have to do some serious _distracting_ later on to keep him mollified.

The door swung shut behind Graham and Henry exploded into the quiet.

“Prince Charming!” He bounded off the stool and slithered to a halt in front of the prince. “Awesome!”

Regina heaved a sigh but did nothing to curtail his enthusiasm. Better that he get most of it out of his system now while Graham wasn’t here to growl over it.

“Uh, hello.” Charming looked down at the strange little blue haired boy and mustered something of a smile.

“You really remember everything? You gotta tell me all about it. I mean, the book covers a lot, but it doesn’t quite get all the action scenes across. I mean, there was a bit where you take on…”

“Henry, take a breath.” Regina warned him when Charming’s eyes just got wider and wider and he actually backed up a step under the storm front of Henry’s personality.

He really was the Queen’s son…though perhaps less destructive.

“Right, sorry, I…sorry.” Henry panted, grinning and very nearly bounced up and down in his excitement. “Did you really throw a sword at mom?”

“Your hair is blue.”

Henry blinked up at Charming and scrunched his nose in confusion, tilting his head. He slowly turned his head to look at his mother and jerked a thumb at Charming.

“Are you sure you woke _all_ of him up?”

“Henry, be patient. He was never that clever to begin with and now he’s in an entirely alien environment. Give him five minutes, hmm?”

“But Graham’s gunna be back in _fifteen_.” Henry’s shoulders slumped and then he did bounce up and down. “I gotta know!”

“You won’t die if you don’t find out everything right away. Let him sit down. David, you can sit there. Would you like a drink?”

Charming just stared at her. That had been so…so civil.

He felt like this was some elaborate and horrible joke. Like the whole world was a stage and everyone he came across was an actor. It was beginning to hit him _exactly_ what he had woken up to.

“David,” Regina spoke with an iron command in her tone, “sit down.”

He tottered over to the stool she had indicated and shakily sat.

Henry, seeing how white his grandfather had gone, silently followed him and retook his own seat. He glanced at his mother but she moved with calm efficiency, fetching a glass and pouring a generous helping of apple juice into it. She held it out to him.

“The sugar will help with the shock.”

Charming leaned back away from it as if it was toxic waste. Not unwise, considering, but he was only hurting himself.

“It’s fine, see?” Henry leaned out, taking the glass from Regina and took a sip himself. “Mom wouldn’t wake you up just to poison you.”

Charming finally accepted the glass of juice and necked half of it in a single pull. He blinked and felt better almost immediately.

“Everything in this town is made of magic in one way or another.” Regina explained. “Taking some of it in realigns you with the rest of the energies floating around. You’ll feel even better once you’ve eaten something.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Charming finished his juice and nodded his thanks when Regina refilled his glass without a further word. “When can I see Snow and Emma?”

Henry stiffened and looked wildly at Regina.

“I’m going to blow up about that later.” Regina told his wide eyed expression and then turned back to David. “You can see them once we explain what has gone on. You’ve missed…everything.”

“Everything?” David frowned. His gut began to churn at Regina’s expression. She was looking at Henry, looking pained and then finally looked back at David.

“I…I did what I said. I took your happy ending. Destroyed it.”

“It’s another man, isn’t it?” David tried very hard not to start hyperventilating.

 He had known she wasn’t telling him everything, he had known she couldn’t be as benevolent as she now appeared to be. Oh gods, had he really lost Snow, truly lost her, to the love of another?

“No. There’s no one else for her.” Regina shook her hand and held up a hand. “They don’t know you and…they haven’t known you for a long time.”

“A long time?” David looked over at Henry who was staring down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. “How long?”

“Twenty eight years.” Regina shrugged a shoulder. “Give or take.”

“No.” David shook his head, feeling the bottom fall out of his world. “That’s…you’d be over sixty.”

“Clean living.” Regina shrugged.

“Mom.” Henry’s voice was soft but it got through to her when yelling wouldn’t have.

She let out a slow sigh.

“The curse has us frozen at this age,” she waved between them, “stops us from aging, stops us from changing, stops everyone from remembering who they are.”

“So, when you said I’d missed everything…”

“Emma is a woman grown. Henry’s birth mother.” Regina spoke from behind gritted teeth but nodded to Henry. “Meet your grandson.”

David looked at Henry and felt his world tilt alarmingly. The boy was, what, ten? He’d missed… _everything_. She –Regina- had stolen it from him. His wife, his daughter and, now, his grandson.

David surged to his feet, slamming his hands onto the counter, and snarled at Regina.

“You STOLE him, didn’t you, you bi- -!” David wisely let himself be cut off when Regina slammed a knife three inches into the tiled counter top beneath his palms. She had slid the blade seamlessly between his fingers, missing severing one of them by a hair’s breadth.

“Missed.” She spoke lightly but her ebony hard eyes swallowed all the light that touched them and he saw his death looking back at him. “Do not think to threaten me in my own home. Do not think to speak rashly. If Graham saw you act this way, you’d be dead before you hit the ground and I have neither the magic nor the inclination to stop him. Do you understand?”

David’s chest was heaving, he could feel the cool metal of the knife pressing against his skin and found himself calculating. Could he kill her? Tear the knife from her grasp and turn it on her before she could call out to Graham. Did he want to try and take on the Huntsman on his own turf? Did he want to try and kidnap a grandson who evidently loved the woman that had raised him despite the heinous monster that she was? Did he want to try and find his way in a world alien to him with the fiercest assassin the Enchanted Forest had ever seen hot on his tail?

Every calculation, every permutation of those scenarios, came back uncomfortably negative in his favour.

Slowly, the tension shivering in his arms, David sat down.

“Oh…kay.” Henry gulped as his mother pried the knife out of the work surface. He stared wide eyed at the crack that now raced halfway over the island counter because of the force she’d stabbed it into the tiles with. “So, we’ve had our little fight, can we get back to the important stuff?”

“Important things like her being the source of all the ills in the world?” David didn’t look away from Regina but he gritted his question to Henry.

“Your daughter gave him up. _I_ adopted him. I didn’t know who he was, I didn’t even know she was your daughter until all of an hour ago.” Regina snapped, her teeth bared just as fiercely as David’s. “If you want to blame anyone for Henry being in my ‘clutches’ you’ll have to look a little lower into the gnarled roots of your family tree.”

David’s jaw clenched and he looked over at Henry. The boy lifted his skinny shoulders in a shrug.

“Emma gave me up.” The words were stilted from him and David noticed Regina’s entire demeanour change in response to her son’s pain. She looked like she strongly wanted to take him into her arms but she held herself back. “She said, she told me…she couldn’t look after me properly so she…sent me away. Mom adopted me. Mom…wanted me.”

“Emma would have wanted you.” David spoke fiercely but Henry’s eyes were blank with pain when he looked up at him.

“She does now. Now that she thinks mom is crazy, now that she’s a grown up, now that…”

“Henry, we don’t have to talk about this. There are _plenty_ of other things we can talk about instead.” Regina tried to distract him but he shook his head.

“No. He has to know. Emma’s not perfect and you’re not evil. Not anymore.” Henry gulped and forced himself to continue. “I could see through the curse and I thought I was going crazy. I thought finding Emma would help…it didn’t. Mom nearly died because I was trying to break the curse on my own.”

David looked wildly at Regina and she wordlessly lifted the arm wrapped in the black canvas gauntlet. Apparently remnants of whatever terrible thing had befallen her to have nearly killed the Evil Queen.

David found that difficult to reconcile. There were certain places in the Enchanted Forest where the translation for her name had been ‘She Who Must Be Avoided’ and for good reason. She’d been nigh unto indestructible by all accounts. David only knew of one person that had _ever_ drawn blood from Regina and that had been Snow. Snow who had seemed fated to war with Regina until one of them was dead.

David found it nearly impossible to wrap his head around a reality where Regina would want to _help_ him and Snow find one another.

“What’s changed?” David looked between Henry and Regina. “Regina nearly dying is…well, I suppose it would be upsetting to you, but there has to have been a reason that _you_ would want to wake me up and break the curse.”

“We told you that there was a threat greater than I out there.”

David frowned and nodded.

“Well, he’s here. He’s here in Storybrooke and he wants nothing less than our total annihilation. We can’t fight him with mundane weaponry. I need my magic to unmake him. I can’t get that without breaking the curse and taking all of us home.”

“And you think I can break the curse?”

“I certainly think you’ll be highly motivated.” Regina mustered something of a smile and turned her attention to the pan now sizzling and spitting on the hob. She cursed softly under her breath and turned to tend to it.

“Mom can’t break the curse herself because she cast it.” Henry supplied when Regina seemed absorbed in preparing dinner. She lifted a steak and set it onto the sizzling pan.

David, despite himself, inhaled the wonderful scent of food with a yowl from his stomach. His silent vow to refuse anything Regina offered him forgotten.

Well, he supposed twenty eight years without a hot meal would do that to a man.

“The best chance we’ve got is to break it with something well known to break all curses.”

“True Love.” David caught on. “You just finished telling me that Snow doesn’t remember me.”

“So get her to fall in love with you again.” Henry hunched his shoulders as if that had been painfully obvious. “You did it before. It can’t be that hard.”

Regina snorted from her position by the hob but didn’t offer further comment.

“It wasn’t exactly easy the first time around.”

“Mom will be helping this time, not trying to get in your way.”

A heavy sigh from the direction of the hob and David looked over to see Regina turn to look at him. She shrugged a shoulder in an ‘if I must’ expression.

“How is…your mom,” Charming picked his words carefully, “supposed to help? I doubt she’d know true love if it jumped up and bit her.”

Charming didn’t even have the chance to yelp before a knife zinged past his face, so close he felt it skim his eyelashes, and buried itself nearly to the hilt in the wall behind him. He looked at the shivering hilt of the knife and then back to Regina.

She stood with her back to him still, her hand stretched out behind her, the only indicator that she had thrown the knife, and her shoulders tense.

“I didn’t know that Prince Charming would be such a butt!” Henry snapped and slapped his hands down on the counter top.

David turned to look at him, brows raised in surprise and actually leaned back when Henry sat up on his knees on the stool and loomed closer to David. He spoke from behind bared teeth in exactly the same way Regina had. He threw off an icy front of malice like an arctic storm.

“Stop insulting her! She could have left you to rot and found another way to break the curse but she didn’t! She knows more about True Love than anyone in ANY world and you had best just sit there, shut up and be educated!”

Henry finally caught himself and stopped, his chest heaving, when Regina’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead and gently pushed him back down to sit on his stool. “Your defence is appreciated but Charming doesn’t know me like you do. He only knows me as the monster in the night. Were you not horrified by the Evil Queen when you first learned that I was her?”

“The key word there being ‘ _was’_.” Henry folded his arms onto the counter top and glared at Charming.                     

  “Try not to irritate me any further.” Regina spoke mildly, passing Henry so she could yank the knife out of the wall. She sighed at the neat hole in the wallpaper. “It’s going to cost me a fortune in repairs otherwise.”

“And she could curse you again.” Henry spoke darkly with no idle threat and Regina turned and arched a brow at him. Henry huffed out an annoyed breath and looked away from her. “Or I could ask Graham to punch you in the head. I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Yes, well, let’s not go breaking Prince Charming until he’s been useful.” Regina steered the conversation to safer waters and shot a warning look at Charming. Do not rouse the protective instincts of her men. For his own safety as much as anything else.

“You’d better be quick about it then.” Henry informed David.

“Will things go back to normal if I break the curse?” David turned to the –incredibly- more receptive audience of Regina and she shrugged shoulder, adding another three steaks to the pan and turning the heat off under the potatoes.

“Normal being a relative term. We will be transported back to the Enchanted Forest, I imagine, as if nothing had ever happened.”

“But everyone will remember what happened here?” David clarified.

“That’s possible too…or everyone -except myself- will have no memory of Storybrooke at all.”

“But that means…” Henry straightened in his seat, looking stricken.

“Yes, it means Graham will forget all about us.” Regina nodded and spoke with a silent warning not to inform Graham of this.

“Never happen.”

Regina jumped and spun when Graham closed the doors leading out onto the patio behind him with a barely audible click. She frowned at him.

“It might.”

“It _won’t_.” Graham leaned down to look her right in the eye, daring her to refute him. “A wolf does not forget his mate. A wolf doesn’t forget _anything._ Least of all a woman like you.”

Regina blinked, clearly caught off guard by that and didn’t help herself in the slightest when she looked him over. He had stripped away his shirt, tie and waistcoat so he stood in nothing but a sweat stained tank top. Obviously those cider barrels had never had a more enthusiastic turning in their existence. He smelled delicious and she tried to ignore it.

“You should wash up. Dinner is nearly ready.”

“Hrrn.” Graham grunted a low sound and studied the crack in the work surface under Charming’s hands and the hole in the wall. He looked at the knife in the sink, the formerly pristine tip buckled a little. Like it had been thrown into something too tough for it to easily slice. He looked back at Regina.

“We’re fine.”

He had felt everything she had felt for the entire conversation with Charming. Anger, pain, sorrow, guilt, that happy maternal pride she got around Henry.

Graham had been on his toes for the entire exchange, ready to go crashing into the house the _second_ he thought she needed him but she had never been afraid so he had kept his distance.

They’d have never managed to discuss anything had he been standing as her shadow snarling at Charming every time he so much as looked at her sideways. As it was, dinner was going to be…interesting.

Come to think of it, Graham had never stood in a more uncomfortable room.

Charming looked somewhat bewildered and wary of Graham. Henry looked like he wanted to punch somebody and Regina seemed just generally tense at Charming being in her house and the imminent threat of having to get between two or all of them to prevent somebody dying.

Graham supposed that the role of peacemaker was entirely alien to her but she was coping with it with her usual aplomb. He decided she would survive a few moments more whilst he washed up to look a little less like a Neanderthal ready to drag his female back to his lair by her hair.

Mainly because he was already _in_ his lair.

“Two minutes.” He squeezed her elbow with the silent message that he would be there if she needed him and levelled a meaningful glare at Charming on his way out of the door.

Regina waited until he was gone and then looked at Charming.

“Take the dive.”

“What?”

“When he challenges you –and he will- take the dive. You’ll live longer.”

“I’m not just going to…”

“Charming, there’s more going on than you know.” Regina spoke over him with an urgency to her tone that even he couldn’t ignore. “ _Take_ the dive.”

“Graham wouldn’t really…?” Henry shifted uncertainly. He had wanted Graham to maybe rough up Charming a little, just to get his point across, but he hadn’t thought that Graham would really _hurt_ him.

“Graham’s not himself right now.” Regina decided and flipped the steaks. She moved on to draining the potatoes. She smiled when Henry hopped down off of his stool and trotted over to wave the potato masher at her. “You want to?”

“I don’t want you to pull anything.” Henry dragged the steps over and clambered up onto them so he had better leverage for bashing the potatoes into submission.

Regina smirked and shook her head at the apparent idea that she was still some hapless female that needed looking after. She had taken over the known world and killed entire platoons of soldiers with nothing more than a fit of pique and a can-do attitude but now mashing potatoes was beyond her? She supposed she could blame Graham for that.

Still, instead of arguing with him, Regina let Henry work out his frustrations on the potatoes and added cream cheese and butter as per his instruction.

“Why is he not himself?” Charming was not so easily distracted by root vegetables.

“It’s a wolf thing.” Regina shrugged it off but froze at his next words.

“A _were_ wolf thing?”

Regina turned to look at him.

“The wound here,” Charming tapped his inner elbow and Henry spun on the stool to stare, “I’ve seen the like before.”

Regina’s jaw rocked to the side and she heaved out a sigh when Henry turned to gape at her. Her mouth twisted.

“Graham’s a werewolf?”

“We don’t know yet.” Regina shot a look at Charming. It would seem that he was still capable of ruining her day in three words or less. “The full moon isn’t for another two weeks. If he’s going to turn at all, it will be then.”

“But…there’s no magic here.” Henry frowned and numbly took the plates from Regina when she handed them to him.

“There is plenty of magic here. Just because I can’t conjure fireballs and turn people inside out doesn’t mean it isn’t everywhere. Werewolf magic is very different from mine. It’s entirely possible that it will work when mine will not. Especially since Graham is no longer under the influence of the curse.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Henry nearly sent the plates flying but caught them at the last second.

“Because there was nothing to tell until we were sure and you have enough going on as it is.” Regina’s voice was firm and Henry huffed out a breath through his nose.

“I thought you were going to be honest with me.”

“If I wasn’t being honest with you I’d have told Charming he was completely wrong and that Graham got those wounds from a drunk in a bar brawl.”

“Which is what you told me!” Henry scowled and Regina inhaled a deep breath for patience.

“Because, at the time, that’s all that we believed they were.”

“What changed?”

Regina looked down at him for a _long_ moment and decided there was a definite limit to what Henry needed to know. That Graham’s eyes glowed when he fucked her being one of them.

“He’s stronger than usual.” Charming seemed to sense where that line of thought went and –in this regard- he and Regina were of a similar mind set. “He tossed me up into the ceiling like a doll.”

“He what?!” Henry looked over at Charming wildly.

“To be fair, he was trying to kill your mother at the time.” Graham prowled back into the room and shot a mean glare at Charming. He said nothing more and turned to Henry instead. “Let’s set the table. I’m hungry.”

“Alright.” Henry looked displeased at being redirected but recognised that he wasn’t getting out of it for a while. “We’re not done though.”

“Not nearly.” Regina gave a humourless smile and handed cutlery to Graham out of the drawer.

“Darn tootin’.” Henry decreed and –with those words of wisdom- took himself off to set the table.         

 Regina huffed out a slow breath and watched him go.

Slowly, her eyes slid over to watch Charming watching her.

They looked at one another for a stretched moment and she wondered idly what he was thinking. She genuinely didn’t feel threatened by him at all. He was bigger and stronger than she, certainly, and she was without her powers but…Graham was right on the other side of that door.

Perhaps if things were different, if she hadn’t had Graham, if Henry was still so distant from her, she might have felt scatty and out of control but right now all she felt was a simmering kind of background tension.

She was aware that he felt threatened by her, he was a powder keg just waiting for a spark, but she was in no hurry to provide it. She was steady, she was handling it. The curse might be breaking but at least it was happening _her_ way.

Even if it did involve giving Snow her happy ending.

Regina’s mouth twisted to the side and she heaved a sigh out through her nose. She turned to face Charming and watched him for a long moment.

“This is going to be hard on you.” She told him.

“Oh, really? Because it’s been entirely smooth sailing with you trying to ruin my life at every turn up until now.” Charming snapped at her.

“Compared to this, yes, it will. You will have to go to her and pretend that you don’t know her. You’ll have to keep your distance, not rush her, and look into her eyes and see nothing looking back. Not even a spark of recognition on some level. You are a stranger to her and your daughter even more so.”

Charming looked down at his hands and frowned.

“Why are you helping? Why really?”

“I told you, there is a threat greater than I marauding through Storybrooke and I’d sooner see it dead than me. My magic is severely limited here. I can manipulate the elements with potions and magical artefacts but I cannot conjure or summon anything. That is not to say that I’m defenceless,” her tone was a low warning, “but it does mean that I have to break the curse in order to have the power to defeat this monster.”

“You’ll have to excuse me if casting you in the role of protector is somewhat farfetched to me.” Charming drawled and Regina shrugged.

“I don’t need or want your approval, just your cooperation. You do your part and I’ll do mine but you have to do it _my_ way. If you come across as crazy, Snow will run a mile and you’ll never speak to her again. Do you understand?”

“I guess that chasing her through the forest and fighting trolls doesn’t exactly impress the ladies in this realm.”

Regina smiled and tilted her head as if thinking about it.

“Not so much.”

Charming stared at the worktop and ran a finger over the crack racing across it. He seemed to bow a little under the odds facing him and Regina didn’t have time for a crisis on his part.

“Look at it this way; you get the chance to start over with Snow. You get the chance to see her fall in love with you all over again and she will.” Regina huffed out an irritated breath. “If you two ever did anything it was _find_ one another. See this as a gift. Maybe that will make it easier.”

“A gift?” Charming looked up at her incredulously. “A _gift?_ ”

“I would give anything to start over with Graham.” Regina’s voice was quiet but it cut through his like a knife.

Charming huffed out a breath, all the wind taken from his sails, and he looked away from her.

Regina took that as a sign that the conversation was over and turned away to plate up dinner. She worked in silence for a few moments and stilled when she became aware that he was right behind her.

She slowly turned to face him.

She’d kill him if she had to, but she’d really rather not deal with the fallout.

“Is this an act? Do you really regret what you’ve done?”

“Regret?” Regina slowly shook her head. “No. I don’t regret any of it.”

His jaw clenched and he looked away from her, his fists balling white knuckled at his side.

“Without my actions, none of this would have happened.” She waved around them to indicate the curse. “You wouldn’t have sent Emma here and she’d have never given birth to Henry. I would never have adopted him and he is the light of my life. I cannot regret anything that led to his existence and I cannot change any of it either. What is the point of ruining myself over such things? If I’m too busy wallowing in self-pity then the Woodcutter is free to lay waste to this town and that just isn’t _happening_ whilst I have a say in it.”

Charming watched her for a long, narrow eyed, moment and then held out his hands. She glanced down at them and then back to his face.

“I have to start helping somewhere.” He shrugged. “Might as well be with carrying plates.”

Regina blinked at him and then smiled, somewhat bemused.

“Very well. This is Henry’s and that’s yours.” She turned away and handed him two plates. “Dining room is through there.”

Charming nodded and then turned away from her, leaving the room to set the plates on the table.

“Seen enough?” Regina looked over into the shadow behind the pantry door and Graham slipped out of it, suddenly becoming visible in the same way that faces can appear in clouds.

“He could have hurt you.”

“He didn’t.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Well, there’s a surprise.” Regina smirked.

“Don’t joke. He tried to kill you earlier tonight and we both know that his kind of rage doesn’t just disappear.”

“It can be put to better uses though.” Regina looked over at him, perfectly serious. “He won’t try and take you on in your own house. He’s an honourable man. He won’t endanger Henry.”

“I have little use for honour when my family is in danger. He’s tried to kill you before. He’ll do it again.” Graham prowled closer to her and looked down into her eyes, trying to get her to take the threat seriously.

“I am not so easily killed nor am I alone.” Regina reached up and scraped her nails through the beard on his jaw. “Charming knows that. He knows things have changed. He knows you will fight to protect me because you choose to, not because you are compelled to. He knows I’ll do the same for you. That makes us very dangerous people. He’s outgunned and outnumbered. He won’t attack unless he believes he has a chance of winning. He’s not a _complete_ idiot.”

“Says you.” Graham tilted his cheek into her palm and she smiled.

“Says I. Now,” she dropped her hand and handed him their plates, “go put these on the table, I’ll bring the wine. I’m starving.”

Graham smirked, leaned down and nipped her lips in a biting kiss. Then he turned to take the plates to the dining room and Regina busied herself with finding a bottle of wine.

So she had managed to avert disaster so far. Now all she had to do was make sure they could eat dinner without killing one another.

Two men, tensions high, years of bad blood between them and lots of sharp metal implements.

Regina hefted the bottle of wine.

Oh, and alcohol.

What could possibly go wrong? 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Next time: SHIRTLESS FIGHTS WHICH ARE PLOT POINTS!
> 
> Because get yourself a writer that can do both ;)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shirtless fight! As promised!
> 
> I did the thing!
> 
> Charming is pretty much Steve Rogers in this. I have a lot of pinterest boards, sue me. 
> 
> Could it be? Is there plot?!
> 
> Just a smidge. 
> 
> Thanks for being so (im)patient guys!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 24 – Effortless**

All of the air coughed from David’s lungs when Graham caught him around the waist and hauled him up off the ground.

David twisted, far from an amateur in the art of war, and slammed his elbow into Graham’s back. It had absolutely zero effect and –with a heft- Graham sent David airborne. David had time to realise he couldn’t twist out of his upside down position, closed his eyes and smacked shoulders first down onto the lawn.

He flopped onto his back and lay there panting heavily.

“Not bad. I almost felt that.”

David cracked open an eye and looked up at Graham.

The man was barely breathing hard. Sweat stained his long sleeved shirt, his hair was a mess and his beard rumpled, but his eyes danced with a savage light and he grinned down at David with seeming genuine enjoyment.

David was under the impression that Graham had not been often given the opportunity to play with his victims like this.

David had taken Regina’s advice when it had became clear how abundantly _strong_ Graham now was. Not to mention that he was still an assassin of some pant wetting skill. He’d fought Graham bravely and had promptly been shoved face first into the dirt and then flipped belly up. Not so much taking the dive as accepting the inevitability of it. 

Satisfied that he had won, Graham had then offered to teach David some new techniques.

David was aware that he had been brought back for a _reason_ and that his hosts were under the impression that he had best prove to be useful _quickly_. So David had gone along with the suggestion. Anything that might help him in the coming fight between this mysterious Woodcutter and (probably, if their history was anything to go by) Graham and Regina themselves.

It wasn’t working out that well for David.

Graham was an able teacher. He had been the general of Regina’s armies, head of the infamous Blackguard. The only one fearsome enough to be allowed to show his face to the general public.  Graham was a warrior without peer and had done his best to pass that on to the men under his command, he was not _bad_ at it by any stretch.

But David was fresh from twenty eight years on his back and really wanted more of that coffee stuff he had tried earlier.

“Ye should really go limp before ye hit the deck. It’ll stop ye from getting further injury.” Graham reached out a hand to help David up and David warily accepted.

Graham was not a fan of _touching_. He seemed fine with it, now, in this setting, but David was still hesitant. He was very aware that the man looming over him had been raised by wolves and may well remove a hand at the elbow if he felt it invaded his personal space.

David was hauled up off the ground with no seeming effort from Graham and pushed towards the decking. David was confused as to why until the French doors to the dining room opened and Regina emerged with a tray in her hands.

“Still in one piece?”

The question was very much directed at David.

“Just about.” David took a glass from the tray when Regina offered it to him. He sniffed the pale yellow concoction which appeared to have ice and slices of a yellow…fruit, in it. “What’s this?”

“Lemonade.” Regina lifted a whole yellow fruit from the tray and showed it to him. “This is a lemon.” Regina had been steadily adding more and more information to David’s day every time she interacted with him.

He’d been surprised at her patience with it. She had spent a whole hour explaining the television to him. The remote control had fascinated him and he had insisted on learning as much about the kitchen as he could. He had learned to cook for himself over an open fire or in a stone oven. This world didn’t have that and the sooner he learned to look after himself and pass for a civilian of this planet, the sooner he could get out from under Regina’s hospitality.

She did not seem harmless. She still watched him warily, though with less overt aggression than Graham had done, but she HAD been very good in teaching him what he needed to know and never seemed to tire of his questions.

When he had even asked her about that, she had shrugged and mentioned that answering questions came with the whole motherhood deal. She’d done it before.

David had been a little thrown at apparently being stored under the umbrella of Regina’s maternal instinct, but she’d yet to snap at him or revert to the persona she had presented to him in the Enchanted Forest every time they had interacted.

Was it possible she had actually changed?

Well, she was still holding the damn lemon and waiting for him to acknowledge his latest lesson.

“I saw one once.” David nodded, recognising it. They had been imported from the far South to George’s kingdom in preparation for David’s wedding to Abigail. No expense had been spared. “Aren’t they really sour?”

“A metric tonne of sugar takes care of that.” Graham bounded up onto the edge of the decking, balancing nimbly on his toes and snagging a glass from the tray. He drank deeply of it and smiled for Regina. “Delicious.”

“Don’t break him.” Regina warned him, her eyes roving over her apparent husband. Her lips pursed a little. “You’re filthy.”

“Ye’ve never minded in the past.” Graham dragged his tongue over his teeth and grinned slowly at her.

David looked away and cautiously sipped at his lemonade. It was sweet, actually. Surprisingly refreshing. There was enough of the sour fruit in it to keep the flavour tart enough to make his jaw quiver but a smooth slide of sweetness to make him thirsty for more.

Bittersweet. That was what it was like being around Regina and Graham. He had not expected it but he actually thought they made a cute couple (under all the murderous intent). Graham flirted _outrageously_ at every seeming opportunity and Regina pretended to be cool about it whilst her eyes smiled softly.

David had been sceptical to say the least, but seeing them last night and this morning had proved it. They loved one another. As incredible as that seemed, Regina could love, did love and didn’t appear _too_ bothered about showing it.

It made David miss Snow all the more.  

“I had maids in the past to get the stains out.” Regina shifted her tray and plucked at the elbow of his sleeve and the grass stain there.

Graham promptly dropped his empty glass back onto her tray and whipped off his shirt in one fluid move. He tossed it onto the deck and grinned at her.

Regina’s lips twitched, her mouth wanting to hook into a smile, but she muscled it down.

“You’re still cleaning it yourself.” She told him archly.

“That’s a good idea, actually.” David set his glass down and removed his own shirt.

He only had two to his name, after all. He folded it neatly over the fencing of the deck and shrugged when he found Graham watching him coolly.

“I’ve only got one other.” He defended himself. “I don’t want to have to repair it after one day.”

Graham grunted and looked sideways at Regina. He was mollified a little to see that she perused David in a cursory manner and then turned back to him.

“Are you two wrestling?”

“I am. He’s trying.” Graham smirked boyishly and Charming rolled his eyes.

“You should try and summon these. Perhaps they will respond in something of a combat situation.” Regina reached out and traced a finger over his sweat slicked forearm and the tattoo there.

Graham’s mouth twisted in distaste at being reminded of his failure to summon the weapons she had gifted him. The sword and gun would no doubt prove to be useful to against the Woodcutter, _if_ he could bring them into existence. Until then, they were nothing more than pretty ink.  

He leaned back, holding onto the railing by his fingertips and smiled lazily at Regina.

“Want to watch?”

Regina propped her free hand on her hip and arched an eyebrow at him. He did nothing but grin back. Waiting her out.

“I have things to do.” She finally decided and Graham made a production of pouting a little. “You can flex for me later, honey.” Regina smirked and then set the rest of the lemonade down on the decking table.

Graham tilted his head as he watched her go and then spun away to drop lithely onto the grass again. He rolled his shoulders and swung his arm with restless energy and practically bounced on his toes.

Charming watched him warily. He was beginning to tire, they’d been at this for well over an hour, but Graham was fresh as the proverbial daisy. Charming sipped on his drink and wondered how to eke another five minute break out of this.

“When can I see my family?”

Graham slowed a little in his flexing and considered the question.

It had taken a while for David to realise that was what he was doing. Graham doled out his words sparingly and only after great consideration. He wasn’t really one for witty banter, in stark contrast to the seemingly unending stream of snark that Regina seemed to exude, but that wasn’t to say that his mind wasn’t constantly at work. He gave every request its due consideration, David had witnessed with Henry that morning, and never said what he did not mean.

“I think Regina has arranged for Emma to pick up Henry from school today. She will bring him home. You’ll likely see her then.”

David went still. Floored by that. He set his glass hurriedly down before he dropped it and then sat down rather suddenly on the grass.

Graham cocked his head, a little puzzled by the reaction, but sank down onto his heels after a moment in solidarity.

David noticed that Graham was still taller than him like this but it wasn’t typical male ego at work with Graham. Charming had come across that a hundred thousand times with soldiers, kings and dwarves throughout the years. It was something different with Graham.

He’d become completely different since their first bout and he’d dropped David like a sack of potatoes. He’d proved to them both that he was by far the superior and considered it a done deal. David would hardly say that Graham trusted him or vice versa, but he considered the question of who was in charge to be answered in full and wouldn’t revisit it.

So there was nothing mocking in him when he watched David adjust to his new world order which seemed to be shifting around him with every passing second.

“She can’t know.” Graham told him though not unkindly. “Ye should get this out of yer system now.”

“Out of my system?” David huffed a breathless laugh. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

He’d see his daughter today. For the first time in nearly three decades, he’d see her face. She was a woman grown now. She was fine. She’d made it without him. Hadn’t needed him at all.

He was both proud and heartbroken by that.

“I don’t even know what she looks like.” David realised after a moment.

Graham reached up and scratched at his beard for a moment. He balanced easily on his toes and hummed deep in his throat.

“Your eyes.” He decided after a moment. “Same colour, same hair colour too. She takes more after Snow though. Same jaw, same mannerisms. She’s pretty skinny. Hair down to the middle of her back. Curly. She has stubborn pride from both of ye. Though that goes more towards NOT believing in True Love and magic than what you did.”

“She doesn’t believe in True Love?” David tried to build up the image of Emma as a grown woman.

He had last known her as a brand new baby. So small and delicate. He could hold her in one hand. Those few scattered moments he’d had with her had been desperately snatched from the blades of the Blackguard. He’d been mortally injured, dying and desperate, but she had been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His daughter. His child.

And he’d given her away.

No wonder she didn’t believe in anything.

“It’s different here.” Graham shrugged. “Nobody believes in it. Not really.”

“And I condemned her to that.” David looked down at his hands. The same hands that had shoved her into that cursed bloody cupboard.

Graham, tellingly, said nothing. David looked up at him again.

“What would you have done?”

Graham blinked, caught off guard by that apparently. He scraped at his beard as he mulled it over.

“If you’d threatened my family?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d have murdered you in your bed.” Graham shrugged as if it was nothing. As if it would have been easy. As if he wouldn’t have lost a wink of sleep over it.

David went still when he realised that Graham said it that way because that was genuinely how he felt.

Even with this new sort of camaraderie that had sprung up between them this morning, if David so much as looked at Regina or even Henry funny, Graham would snap his neck like a twig and to hell with whatever they had planned for him.

“It’s that easy?” David raised his eyebrows.

Yes, he had killed. He’d killed hundreds and caused the deaths of thousands with his wars. He’d killed men, professional soldiers, with his bare hands. He’d been incredibly skilled at it.

But it had never been _easy_.

“Morals are a privilege.” Graham shrugged. “Normal people get to have them. _People_ get to have them. Not wolves. Not kings.”

David looked away and tried to wrap his head around that.

That was true. His decision to send Snow and Emma through the wardrobe had been to keep them safe from Regina. To let them have something of a life unmolested by the sorceress’ taint. They’d have lived without him but they would have _lived_.

His decision to send Emma through by herself had been born of desperation…but it had been the decision of a king.

Emma’s father had not put her between worlds. Her king had.

How could she ever forgive him?

“All ye can do is own it.” Graham said suddenly. “Weeping doesn’t change the past. I’ve tried, it doesn’t work. Weeping doesn’t change what ye have to do.”

“Does it get easier?” David daren’t even hope. He didn’t know which answer he deserved.

“No.” Graham cocked his head and mulled that over. “Ye get better at carrying it though.”

“How?”

Graham’s mouth twisted and he considered that. He frowned a little as if trying to figure out how to explain it to someone.

“Same as everything else; practice.”

David scrubbed his hands over his face and then launched himself upright. He surged to his feet and huffed out a ragged breath. He suddenly very much didn’t want to talk anymore. He felt like punching something.

Luckily for him, he had a willing partner for that particular dance.

He _flew_ at Graham.

Graham sprang to his feet easily from his crouched position and dodged David’s wild punch. He danced backwards, ducking, jinking, slipping away. He was always _just_ out of reach. He knew David’s range by now and was practiced enough to stay out of the way no matter how pissed the prince was about the way his life had turned out.

David landed more than a couple of blows and was surprised when Graham didn’t immediately and definitively respond. It _had_ to have hurt. Werewolf in the making or not. David wasn’t pulling anything. He struck Graham with all of his strength. On the arm, the shoulder, the flank. Graham never let himself get punched in the face even if it was evident that Charming wanted to break his nose.

Graham wasn’t very practiced at being kind, but he could take a beating with the best of them. If David needed to bruise his knuckles then Graham saw no reason not to let him.

Graham smacked the wildest punches away, rolled away from the worst of the blows that landed and generally let David tire himself out.

“Stop it!” David very nearly snarled. His chest seething with every breath.

“Stop what?” Graham dodged another punch by a hair’s breadth, tilting his chin _just_ out of the way of David’s flying fist. “Winning?”

David gave up all pretense of boxing and hurled himself at Graham.

Graham was taller but leaner. Faster and more vicious but he had genuinely been caught by surprise. That and there was nowhere for him to go.

Also, under strict No Breaking instructions.

He had little choice but to meet David head on. They slammed together with a bone jarring impact. The sound of meat on bone was a thunderous thud that echoed in the garden and David grunted with the effort of trying to grapple Graham into a position where he could hurl him to the ground.

No dice.

Graham twisted, slithering out of Charming’s hold and reversing it on him. He threw up one arm to block David’s overhead blow and wrapped his other arm around David’s torso and under his other arm to lock that shoulder into immobility.

Graham stiffened when he caught the scent. That burnt sugar smell of magic. He twisted, trying to throw David away from him so he could take stock. Who the hell could be smelling of magic in a world without it?

Graham went onto high alert, his eyes bursting into a neon glow, his teeth baring and he snarled a deep and thunderous sound.

Magic blasted him backwards like a kick to the chest and Graham was sent tumbling over the lawn.

David was launched similarly backwards and tumbled end over end to sprawl on his back. His chest heaving and his skin smoking.

Graham was stunned. That had been like getting kicked by a horse. He tried to sit up, unsuccessfully at first, and then laboured upright through sheer stubbornness. He looked blearily around the garden, stretching his jangling senses taut, trying to discern if the Woodcutter had made it through the wards.

“What the hell?!” Regina hurled the French doors open and ran out onto the decking.

She saw Graham and David on opposite sides of the garden. Graham at least appeared conscious though a little punch drunk. He shook his head blearily and his eyes skated past her as if he hadn’t really seen her.

David appeared to be entirely unconscious, smoking a little, but breathing steadily.

Regina went to Graham first.

“What happened?” She took his head in her hands, her fingers tangling in his hair and searching for signs of trauma.

“Dunno.” Graham shook his head and blinked, trying to clear the cotton wool from his brain. “We were sparring, he was mad, I smelled magic and then…it exploded?”

“It exploded?” Regina looked rightfully concerned at the turn of events but relief flooded through her when Graham seemed to come further and further back to himself by the second.

The glow receded from his eyes. His pupils darkened, becoming less reflective. He breathed easier and he focussed on her when he looked at her.

“Is he on fire?”

“Who cares?” Regina ran her hands over Graham’s arms and legs, checking for breaks. “Can you stand?”

“Of course.” Graham would have told her that if he’d had a bicycle sticking out of his skull so Regina continued her once over before agreeing to help him up.

She pulled him to his feet, supporting him when he weaved a little and they made their way over to David together and with extreme caution.

“He shouldn’t have magic. He’s never exhibited _any_ sign of it before.” Regina cautiously approached David. The stench of magic was rife and unmistakable. He was practically glowing. “I am going to be _pissed_ if he’s the magic one now.”

Graham snorted a laugh and she smiled a little at that. She was working her heart back down into her chest to where it should be rather than up in her throat getting cosy with her trachea. She had NOT needed to see her lover sprawled insensate and clad in the stench of magic when she had none of her own to defend him.

He was fine. He was _fine_. She told herself that repeatedly and beat back the panic.

“Shit.” Graham looked down at David and his brows rose. “Maybe they just didn’t like me.”

“What?” Regina glanced up at Graham. Maybe he did have a concussion?

“Look.” Graham weaved a little and lifted his arm.

His _bare_ arm.

No shirt of course but also no tattoo.

Regina blinked. She opened her mouth and then clipped it closed. Her head swung around to look down at David and her brows rose when she realised _why_ he was smoking a little.

He had a tattoo. On his forearm, like Graham had, the long gun stretched from his elbow to his wrist. The swirls were brilliant reds and golds. The blacker than black ink seeming lurid against the pallor of his skin. Blood beaded from the fresh tattoo and magic plumed from it in curling vapours that seemed a continuation of the liquid lines of the tattoo.

“Other one’s gone too.” Graham lifted his other arm from where it was draped over Regina’s shoulders to hold him up and her close. His skin was blank there too.

“Gone _where_?!” Regina looked about the garden as if she might find it left abandoned on the lawn or adhered to a deck chair.

“Help me flip him.” Graham vaguely remembered where his arms had been locked around Charming to stop him from murdering him.

He decided not to tell Regina that David had been QUITE pissy with Graham and rather intent on causing as much harm as possible. If David had the tattoos now, maybe he’d be more useful than they had first suspected and they could do without her murdering him in a fit of overprotectiveness.

Graham went rather heavily to his knees and ignored the look that Regina shot him. He was more focussed on pulling David onto his side so that Regina could look at his back.

“It’s there.” Regina nodded.

The black sword was bigger on David’s back, stretching the entire length of his shoulder blade. Swirls of blue and silver roiled around the sword like stormclouds. Lightning crackled from the blade it jagged edges of negative space. His skin showing through as the lightning amongst the smoky lines of the tattoo.

“Huh.” Regina decided after a moment, thinking hard.

“Did you know that could happen?” Graham let David roll onto his back again. Neither of them were too concerned.

It was unsurprising that he would have passed out from the pain, even Graham had been knocked off his feet by it when Regina had bonded the tattoos to his skin. His breathing was fine, a quick check revealed his heart rate to be normal as well. He’d –simply- fainted.

Simply fainted after being branded with magical tattoos of an unconfirmed power.

Right.

“No.” Regina shook her head. “I thought once they were bonded, that was it.”

She sat back on her heels and thought on it a moment. She huffed out a breath and scrubbed her hands through her hair, looking more than a little harassed by the afternoon’s turn of events.

“You never wanted the tattoos.” She murmured after a moment. “You thought they might be useful but you didn’t _want_ them. Wanting something is very powerful when it comes to magic. You have to know the exact rules of the universe and then wilfully ignore them. You have to want the spell to happen more than you want the laws of physics to keep you rooted to the earth and the world turning about you.”

Graham frowned a little at that.

“I want to protect you.” His jaw set. “You and Henry both.”

“I know.” She was quick to reassure him. Graham wasn’t really capable of being insulted through conventional means. He didn’t believe a lot of human insults really applied to him. Telling him that he didn’t want to protect his family, his pack, was something that managed to get to him. “But you’ve ever preferred to use solid weapons or –preferably- your bare hands.”

Graham grunted, mollified by the truth.

“I didn’t know he was capable of wanting something that much. To leech the magic right from your skin.” Regina poked carefully at the gun tattoo on David’s arm. It was different to the one that Graham had sported.

A revolver.

A _BIG_ fucking revolver, but not the shotgun that had branded Graham’s skin.

“He’s lost everything. The desire to get it all back has got to be pretty powerful.” Graham shrugged a shoulder and allowed himself to rock back and sit on his arse.

That magic had really knocked him for six.

He had forgotten.

How was it possible that he had _forgotten_? How could he have forgotten the power that had ruled his life for years? How could he have forgotten how powerful it had made _Regina_?

He looked over at her and she frowned at the expression on his face.

“What is it? Are you okay?”

Graham blinked and shook it off. She wasn’t that person anymore. He wasn’t that beast anymore either. They had both changed.

“Yeah. Just got my arse kicked, that’s all.”

Regina smiled but it was a twist of her true smile. She had been more than a little worried for him. She was already on edge at the prospect of the werewolf magic overtaking him entirely and swallowing him whole or –worse- not being enough to change him when the full moon came about and leaving him a jellied bloodied mess that she would need to put out of its misery.

“I’m alright.” He reached out and threaded his fingers through hers. “Caught me by surprise is all.”

She hummed but made no further comment. She looked back down at David. Though Graham was heartened when she didn’t pull her hand from his. Instead she held him tighter.

David woke up all at once.

His eyes snapped open, he snarled low in his throat and came up swinging. Regina jerked back but was faster than even Graham when David swung for her face. She redirected his wild fist with a slap of her palm and he ended up punching himself squarely in the kneecap.

“Ow!” David sucked in a breath and cradled his bruised knuckles in his hand. He winced when he saw the blood and ink on his arm. “ _Ow_.”

He hissed when the pain throbbing in his back finally made it to the front of the line. He arched, half reaching behind himself and stopped when that hurt too much.

“OWWW.”

“Stop whining.” Regina told him firmly. So it wasn’t precisely his fault that he had stolen the Graham’s tattoos, that didn’t meant she had to be nice to him. “Try and summon them.”

“What?” David was breathing hard and he looked wildly between them both.

“Ye took my tattoos. They’re weapons that can be summoned but never stolen from you. _Very_ powerful _._ Now, try and summon them.”

“How do I…?” David yelped when the black revolved _popped_ out of his arm.

He fumbled for it, eyes wide, and caught the beast of a gun by the barrel. He stared at the blacker than black weapon. It was entirely matt black. No light reached it at all. But it was SOLID. Heavy in his hand. It _felt_ mean. Destructive.

“What is it?” David turned the gun to look down the barrel and realised that was probably not what he was supposed to do when both Regina and Graham redirected him with firm hands.

“Business end points away from you and people you don’t want dead.” Graham tapped the barrel of the gun with his finger and pointedly kept it away from Regina.

“Okay. What’s the other one?”

No sooner had he said it than the sword _clanged_ out of his back. He jumped, the heavy thud of the black magic steel hitting the grass more than enough to startle him in his frazzled state and Regina and Graham were both forced to twist out of the way of a swinging gun barrel.

“Oh.” David was relieved to see this new magic take on a form he recognised. He carefully picked up the sword and hefted it in his hand.

It was _perfect_. It fit him as if it had been forged for him. The hilt snug in his palm, the grip firm and sure. The balance was keen and it _wasn’t_ weightless. He would expect a magic sword to have an alien and weightless quality to it, like trying to fight with air, but this blade was keen and felt solid enough to do _significant_ damage.

“I’ve been trying to do this for weeks and they just _fall out_ of him.” Graham sighed and looked skyward.

Great, now he had to teach the renaissance man how to shoot.

With a gun that he himself could not touch.

Super.

“Can you put them back?”

“Uh…” Charming looked between the gun and the sword. Not even knowing where to start.

“Just do what feels natural.” Regina urged him, her curiosity winning out over her desire to avoid the business end of a magical gun that may or may not be loaded.

Still, she made sure that it was pointed at the ground between Charming’s feet.

“Right.” David sat up straighter, the sword singing through the air as he made to sheathe it over his back. Like he had a scabbard in a shoulder rig there.

The sword slid away into nothing, reappearing on his skin as if it had never left. He grinned at his success and then pondered the gun a moment. He settled for simply letting it go and sort of showing his arm to it.

Regina would have rolled her eyes had it not _worked_.

“Ye _gods_.” Graham all but growled.

They had a magical simpleton that had mastered the weapons that had stumped both of them for weeks in a matter of seconds. He should not be this annoyed about it. Regina was right, he preferred to use his own weapons and –besides- he’d be a monstrous wolf in a couple of weeks.

Graham watched as Charming unsheathed the sword and unholstered the gun again. He stowed them away even more easily and seamlessly this time.

“Well…that’s…” Regina lifted her hands and let them clap back down onto her knees. She looked like she didn’t know how to take this new development and resisted the urge to tell Charming to stop _playing_ with the magical spirit weapons.

Charming stowed them one last time and then turned to Regina.

“Is there ice cream?”

Regina blinked. Charming –she had discovered- had a sweet tooth even more discerning than Henry’s. He’d had ice cream the night previous and had murmured something about it almost being worth the cost of the curse.

“Sure. You want chocolate again?”

“Flavour doesn’t matter.” Charming carefully rolled his shoulders with a wince. “It’s for my back.”

Regina smiled despite herself and looked over at Graham. He still looked a little haggard from being kicked in the head with magic. Sugar would probably help them all ajust.

“Come along.” Regina rose to her feet and jerked her head towards the kitchen. “You can have something for the tattoos AND ice cream.”

“Sold.” Charming and Graham helped one another to their feet and dutifully followed after Regina to the kitchen. He leaned over to speak to Graham. “Does she diffuse everything with ice cream now?”

Regina had rather judiciously prevented a fight between Henry and David the night before by waving ice cream in front of both of them until they had lost interest in their argument.

“You’d rather cursed fruit?” Graham arched a brow his way.

“Just asking.” David held up his hands in apparent surrender and Graham rolled his eyes, disappearing inside.

Charming followed.

Ice cream was definitely an improvement over curses.

Tasted better too.    

 

 


End file.
